epundemic: (6)
Ellie ([personal profile] epundemic) wrote in [community profile] sixthiterationlogs2018-08-01 02:30 am

(no subject)

WHO: Ellie
WHERE: Fountain, Storehouse, Inn, House 15
WHEN: Ellie's arrival (August 1) & the first few days after
OPEN TO: Jessica Jones + Open
WARNINGS:Nothing for now, will update as needed


Fountain (closed to Jessica Jones)
The last thing she remembers is water. There had been so much water, and not enough time to get Joel out of the bus he had been trapped in. The water overcame her and filled her nose and mouth, and eventually her lungs. When she blacked out, the last thing she could recall feeling was terror. As she wakes up surrounded by water, that terror turns to panic. Both combine to make her thrash away from the force she feels gently pushing her upward. It's enough to get her moving but not good enough to bring her anywhere near the surface.

Her first instinct screams to find Joel, but it doesn't take longer than a couple of seconds for her to realize that he's not here. She's not in the same place anymore, she must've been washed away somewhere else. She can tell that the water here isn't necessarily as deep as what she had been drowning in before, sunlight visible from where she is. She can't swim, so her struggle is mainly flailing limbs and an attempt to claw her way up while ignoring the burst of nausea she feels as her lungs burn in protest.

Storehouse
Okay, so she's not just going to let her clothes and shit be taken without at least trying to get them back. Ellie doesn't have much in the world and the fact that what little she does have was taken from her doesn't sit right with her. Not like the way she woke up here or the fact she has no idea where she actually is makes her feel warm and fuzzy, but it's not knowing where her things are that really get to her. She stubbornly refuses to believe they're just gone and takes to looking for them. Eventually, she ends up at the storehouse. It looks like where things are stored, so maybe this is where all the stolen stuff is kept?

She's not exactly quiet while she's digging around, ranting and raving about just what she's going to do to whoever touched her stuff when she finds them.

Inn
It doesn't take long for Ellie to find out where it is she's supposed to go in order to find work. She's so conditioned to having to earn her keep that she doesn't even stop long enough to consider she might deserve a break. The census is at the inn, and there she can find a way to register herself and make herself officially useful. She ends up exploring the first level of the inn after doing so, finding her way right to the kitchen. She's starving, and her stomach comically growls right in time with her eyes spotting some things just sitting around.

Not really sure if it's cool for her to do or not, she creeps her way in so she can grab an apple. But why stop with just one apple when you can have two, and maybe a potato or two to go along with them? She ends up juggling it all and winds up dropping an apple in the process. Her teeth firmly bite into the other apple to hold onto it, and the potatoes are set aside as she chases along after the runaway fruit. It rolls and leads the way right to a pair of shoes that get her to stop in her tracks and glance upward. Are they here to stop her?

House 15
Ellie's like an old lady, spending way too much time out on the porch of her house. The inside is huge, way bigger than anything that a girl her age needs. Maybe if Joel were here with her, it'd be different. But he isn't, so she accepts the house and thinks of it as her castle. Sure, she runs around the house a lot and feels weird having so many empty rooms. But it's space that's all hers, something she's never had before. Military school didn't exactly allow private rooms. As much as she loves spending time inside a huge house alone, it's the porch that she spends the most time on. In her first week there, she spends hours sitting on the railing and just observing life around the settlement. She even sleeps out there, meaning that it's easy for her to jump up to attention and throw rocks at anyone that's out late making too much noise.
oorah: (☠︎073)

House 15

[personal profile] oorah 2018-08-01 01:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Frank doesn't make any noise at all, passing by on his nightly route though there's no official patrol team here. He takes it unto himself to make sure the village is well-guarded. This is usually where he'd stop and head back, before he could convince himself to scope out the upper cluster of houses too. He figures those people want to be left alone, so they don't want or need his protection.

As ever, he has two faithful shadows, well. One faithful shadow in the shape of a brown-and-tan bloodhound and one psychotic black German shepherd who's sniffing all over the goddamned place. Whatever magic allowed him to communicate with Aurora, unbeknownst to him still, is absent now and the poor, sweet thing is back to her frazzled self. The dog bolts and Aretha starts braying to let Frank know something is awry. The hairs on the back of his neck rise in twofold warning and just as he screams for the other dog, voice hoarse from unuse, there's a sharp pain in his leg. His eyes widen in alarm, but as he squints through the darkness, he picks up a rock off the street. What the...?

Aretha starts growling, something he never hears from her much, and he pats at her head to get her to calm down, thinking as always of Max and hoping he's safe. What's more pressing is the figure of a person on a nearby porch who had cast the first stone, as it were. Frank marches right up the steps and stands over - a girl? it's just a girl, Frank - the new occupant of the house. There had been a man here before, one he'd never spoken to. There are lights on inside that illuminate her freckled face and the dawning realization almost has him spiraling out. She doesn't remember you.

Frank drops the stone at her feet with a loud crack of rock against wood. It may have even dented the board. Aretha is up against his hip, ears back and teeth bared. Aurora is probably taking a shit in the backyard, he'll track her down in a minute. First: he's in full-on dad lecture mode.

"What the goddamn hell were you thinkin'? Throwing rocks at people. And dogs. If you hit one of the dogs-" He swallows, rage spiking in his eyes, but then he deflates just as fast. He really doesn't have the energy for this. He's not everyone's parent here, he can't be. You don't have to be everything to everyone anymore. If only he could believe it. "You do that again and I'll hear about it. I'll invite everyone in town over so they can throw rocks at you, how's that sound?"

Yeah, the moment the sting had eased, so had his anger. He knows he's not being nearly as scary as he could be. Frank takes a deep breath and shakes his head. Why him? What did he ever do to deserve this shit, time and time again?
oorah: (087)

[personal profile] oorah 2018-08-01 08:47 pm (UTC)(link)
It was a good hit for a literal shot in the dark, Frank had noticed. And he doesn't underestimate her at all, in fact being a girl only vastly improves her chances of him never doing that to her. He takes a breath and realizes he probably shouldn't be threatening newly arrived kids. He never would've flown off the handle like that in Reims. He rocks his hand for the dog who takes it as a 'stand down' gesture, sitting up and panting cheerily a second later. He can hear Aurora milling around now, but maybe it's best if she doesn't come back around right away. Frank still isn't sure what Ellie's demeanor is going to be. He'd seen her be everything from hostile to sweet, and after he'd just yelled at her the response is more-or-less expected.

"We didn't mean to scare you," he points out after a long pause, nodding resolutely to her pledge. "You're not in any danger from us either. OK?"

Aretha approaches slow, nudging at Ellie's hand, but Aurora is a force of nature, careening into Frank's side and barking a few times in greeting when she finally decides she's checked the place out to her satisfaction.
oorah: (☠︎027)

[personal profile] oorah 2018-08-01 09:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Frank is about to call Aretha back (and attempt to get Aurora to listen) but then Ellie is opening herself up for the dogs and they're all too happy to get right in there. Aretha nuzzles the offered hand sedately while Aurora skips it completely to lick a stripe right across Ellie's cheek.

"Aurora," he says pointing to the taller black dog. "Aretha." Pointing to the bloodhound. He shrugs. He's not their human, not exactly, but he's one of their caretakers all the same.

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morphogenia: (turning sadness into kindness)

Inn

[personal profile] morphogenia 2018-08-01 06:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Kamala is here to make a surprise lunch before she tracks down Frank. A lot has happened recently. She's eager to do something to help the other man cheer up a little... as much as a man like Frank Castle cheers up at any rate. She's not expecting rolling fruit, but it doesn't even give Kamala pause. She picks it up and holds it out with a smile. As far as she knows they all share here so what could the problem be? Other than the girl might be clumsy.

"Here!" Whenever the other girl takes it, Kamala follows up with the obvious question. "Are you here to make lunch too?"
morphogenia: (of something like that!)

[personal profile] morphogenia 2018-08-01 08:00 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yep!" Kamala starts chipperly before the rest of what Ellie is saying sinks in. She looks rightfully horrified by the thought. "What? No! These people aren't like that at all. This nice, but kind of quiet guy, Owen, totally gave me the low down after I came out of the fountain. They're just... nice. Actual nice and not cult nice. That's an important difference when you wind up in these situations." She releases a heavy breath. She thinks of Reims. The natives there were only decent to them so they'd stick around, help them survive, and have new babies someday. It becomes more horrifying to Kamala as time goes on. She doesn't bother hiding how much the memory freaks her out to this day.

She forces herself to snap out of it. She's supposed to be making lunch. "So don't be afraid to feed yourself, okay? Just try to avoid eating everything because common courtesy and all that." She's going to see if they have more potatoes. Everyone loves those for lunch.
morphogenia: (it's natural like the rainbow)

[personal profile] morphogenia 2018-08-02 01:40 am (UTC)(link)
Kamala doesn't hesitate to answer for a minute. She's one of a handful of teenagers. Like she's going to miss her chance to talk to one of them. Like the multi-tasker she is, Kamala gathers and talks at the same time. "Potatoes for sure! Along with everything I need to make them taste good like garlic, dill, and banana peppers since he really should get more heat in his life." She is just hunting these items down while she talks.

"Then there's the side dish...." Kamala snaps her fingers. "If you were a terrifying man on the outside, would you rather eat chickpeas or corn?"

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underpinnings: (not mclovin it)

House 15

[personal profile] underpinnings 2018-08-02 04:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Owen knows you can't prepare for everything, but--tossed in a hole with a Runner, rolled out of a fountain, struck by lightning and, days ago, tasked with killing some inhuman beast--he thought himself better equipped than most. More mistakes to learn from, at least.

Never really had to ask the question before: what's the gentlest way to wake a teenage girl and tell her too many things go bump in the night for porch sleepovers?

Gentle doesn't usually come off that way, from him. Gentle might not be in his wheelhouse, whether it's nature or nurture you subscribe to. Tonight, Owen's the one tossing rocks, once he's stepping on every stick he can find while he hunts one. Picking up what's more of a hard clod of dirt, he aims it at the adjacent window, keeping off the porch itself until she reacts.

"Hey," he stage whispers, not trying to hide what he's done. "You awake, kid?"
underpinnings: (shirtless profile)

[personal profile] underpinnings 2018-08-04 05:19 am (UTC)(link)
He woke her up; he can answer a question. New people tend to get lost in the shuffle of his drifting through, in and back out to the open plains. Things are simpler out there, but something always brings him back. This, he supposes. Kids sleeping on porches. "Heading home, lost daylight and didn't want to crash in the houses by the lake."

Not after what he saw by its edges. Owen doesn't know if that's how it usually works--when most things don't rattle you, the things that do rattle deep, and hard.

Or the wendigo was just terrifying, full stop. "You talk to many people here yet," he asks, hand on a beam and no intention of passing that last step. "Not a good idea to sleep outside if you don't have to. Had some predators through recently."
underpinnings: (skeptical in yellow)

[personal profile] underpinnings 2018-08-05 04:43 am (UTC)(link)
That she doesn't know the story already is answer enough, and Owen's grimace is for her luck in missing the bloody affair, might even miss the funeral to the south. He'd been about sixteen, seventeen when he'd had to fend entirely for himself; it isn't a habit he's shaken, even in company. He doesn't expect her to take anything but the information from him tonight.

"Big antlered thing, twice the size of a man. Headlight eyes, shedding this nasty black skin. Had some smaller ones come off the mountain with it after an earthquake." Crossing his arms, he relaxes into something a little more neutral, arm leaned against a beam of the porch. "Haven't seen one in a few days, but--worth having a locked door between you and whatever's out there." And, his presence might imply, strangers walking by in the dead of night, who either don't know to mind their business or don't want to.

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notan_animal: (Default)

Inn

[personal profile] notan_animal 2018-08-02 07:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Logan lives all the way over in the other village but he's there when food becomes a necessity that isn't the fish or rabbit that he's caught in and around his place. He also stocks up on the other stuff when he comes around to give back as is required. No one seems to need as much firewood these days, but there's other work to be done, repairs on a number of buildings after the earthquake and wendigo attack.

Spotting the girl, he watches without expression until the apple bouncing off the toe of his boot gets him to look down. An arched brow and inquisitive look will greet Ellie when she finally looks up.
underachievement: he's not that great (we don't need danny)

the jess one

[personal profile] underachievement 2018-08-03 01:11 am (UTC)(link)
Her path across the village takes her past or through the fountain, though most people have to walk by it at least once during the day. Presumably for this exact reason. She's gotten used to the sound of the fountain running. Like the ceaseless din of the New York streets, she's come to tune it out, so the burbling of air breaking the surface gets her attention immediately. Violent splashing ought to follow and Jess is already beelining for the water as she registers what it means that none does and the bubbles have nearly stopped. She leans over the stone edge hoping to see nothing, sees a whole lotta drowning kid, curses and jumps in without taking her boots off or taking a breath in.

Two quick strokes and Jess hooks an arm around her chest and hopes to hell this is how you do this, struggling to drag them both up. No fucking superpowers, Jones, not true, don't panic, the surface breaks and Jess gasps for the air she should have grabbed before diving. She hooks herself to the fountain's edge and hefts the kid up against her, trying to keep her head above water.
underachievement: (im a foxy shambles)

[personal profile] underachievement 2018-08-04 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
Dragging them all the way out is the hard part. The scrubs on new arrivals are fairly light but Jess never wears hers. Her boots and denim are weighed down more than she's used to compensating for, which is not at all, and even though she can breathe, she sputters roughly as much as her rescue victim from the effort of getting them on solid ground. Jess spits water as she rolls onto her back, comforted by the sound of vomiting splashing into the fountain. Means she doesn't need CPR and isn't so waterlogged she can't turn onto her side and stop herself from choking on her own puke. Day saved, they've both earned a breather.

Ellie's perfectly reasonable question moments later incurs a hundred insufficient answers. Jess knows because she's still asking herself that, though she's gotten the village name and read up on the history, such as it's been documented, which isn't much. The glib responses are even worse, not that she's gotten many of them, she's just thought of a lot. Nothing she comes up with is as bad as the last cosmic kidnap she was a part of, so they don't seem totally accurate. They're not appropriate either but the kid's vibe is as concerned of that as Jessica's typically is, going by the first words out of her mouth.

"It's a village called Sixth," she exposits as she lifts herself up enough to sit on her ass as she pulls off a boot and upends it, freeing a small puddle. "People show up like that," nodding to the fountain, "and then they just live here."
Edited (hnng make better) 2018-08-04 03:05 (UTC)
underachievement: i'm here to meet, touch, and/or become a unicorn (forget the girl talk)

[personal profile] underachievement 2018-08-04 05:05 am (UTC)(link)
Jess empties out her other boot while the new arrival processes her situation. Her first rodeo, from the sounds of it. Weird to think that it gets easier. Weird and Stockholmy. But Jess only has hope of returning to New York because she did it once before. If that's something their overseers took into account, well, at least they weren't the clueless dipshits running the old place. She hates them equally, regardless. Anything less is drinking the punch.

Notable that Ellie's panic isn't shoving Jess away, so she has no bubble. Her scrubs are green, which makes sense, within the insane framework of this place. Kamala's wrist thingy is green. Maybe it's an age thing.

"I know you have no reason to trust me," Jess starts, pushing herself to her feet, she'll think of the rest of the sentence on her way up, ope, she didn't. Abandoning that lonely beat-up caboose of a thought, she switches gears to, "I'm Jess."

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