Open | South Fountain and surrounding buildings

[to_defend]

WHO: 7
WHERE: South Fountain
WHEN: Tonight
OPEN TO: Open to All
WARNINGS: N/A, will update as applicable

---

7's world opens with pain in her chest,  a breath in, and immediate choking as her throat and mouth fill with water. Her first experiences as human are this constricting pain and confusion, rising in a panic. In that moment, a blue string of light unfurls itself in front of her, and leading up and towards the greater light above. She pushes against nothing more than the resistance of water, grabbing onto the edge of the fountain and eventually pulling herself into the air proper. 

Coughing up water, gasping for breath, she pulls herself fully out of the fountain and onto the ground. As she expels the water from her lungs and takes proper, deeps breaths of air, she starts to see her surroundings in earnest. The village isn't familiar, but in some ways reminds her of the cracked and broken world she left, if sporting a little more wood than stone and metal. 

But she's  found herself in the center of the village, and it's entirely too open for her tastes. Pushing up once she's regained the strength (in all honesty, probably a moment or two prior), she darts away from the fountain and into the shadows. Once there, once hidden, she really takes a moment to drink deeply of the air around her, to look at her hands and shove the soaked strands of hair out of her face. 

What's next? What's next - she's covered in navy blue cloth, soaked layers, she's got a pack - deep breaths. She doesn't question why it's important, but it feels right, so she doesn't fight against it. 

What's next - is she being watched? Is she being followed? Where are the others?

You will find 7 making her way through the village - building by building - moving in a way that suggests she doesn't want to be seen, looking around to try and catch sight of anyone else, keeping a curious eye on the ground. 

Comments

[championofsnark]

Hawke is also someone who knows how to use the shadows to her advantage. For someone boisterous and chatty, she is a master of stealth and shutting her mouth when necessary. She's about to head out for the night, but she decided to perch on the roof of the inn, fiddling with the bow she would have to live with until she got something better. She tries not to spend too much time dwelling in the darkness, but sometimes it happens. And no one is around anymore to tell her to stop and come play some Wicked Grace.

She's at a good perch to spot people, no matter how carefully they're walking, but it doesn't look like a hulking monster or anything to be concerned with ... yet. They clearly don't want to be seen, but that could mean all kinds of things. She watches and realizes she has to make a decision before she's out of ear shot. Sneaking up wouldn't be much help. Oh well. "Oi!" Hawke says from above, dark hair loose, mostly just a dark shape at this point. "What're you up to down there? Lost something?"

[to_defend]

7 freezes, looking about for a moment before she catches sight of Hawke up on the roof. She doesn't move for a long moment - she's been found out and darting off to hide is a little obvious. She stands, slowly, and takes a couple steps into the street, and not an inch further.

"Lost some friends." Were they here? Were they human, too? What about the machines?
She looks carefully at Hawke, noting the bow, and eventually makes her way over and climbs her way up the side to join Hawke on the roof. Though, still keeping a respectable distance. "Have you seen anyone else around here?"

[championofsnark]

Hawke wiggles her fingers at 7 to try and show that she isn't dangerous. She might have some weapons on her, but they're not out or aimed anywhere. She smiles and waits for the woman to join her, not seeming concerned at all that she's climbing up there. She wouldn't have let her position known if she minded. "We all have lost some friends here. It's a bit of a mixed bag here, that way."

She gives 7 a once over, and airily waves at the village as a whole. "Yeah, there's a good handful around. Not a giant city type handful, no oven what I'd call a full sized village, but maybe fifty? There's a list somewhere." Hawke has a tendency to chat on a stream of consciousness. "I'm Hawke."

[to_defend]

"You can call me 7." She takes a seat, up there on the roof. Fifty is still a lot of people for her, and she glances out at the village as if she could see them all in that moment.

"Are they dangerous?" She hadn't been attacked yet, so she was beginning to suspect she may be relatively safe, "-- and what about, Machines?"

[championofsnark]

"7, got it." It physically hurt her not to immediately make a joke about where one through six was, but she manages to hold back since the woman's new. And clearly not comfortable in the area yet. Hawke will subject her to the humor another time.

"Not that I've found. They're all rather polite, actually. Nice even. I'd think they were all possessed if I didn't know that possessed people are the opposite of nice." Hawke isn't used to nice people, not on a scale like this. She and her friends are too rough around the edges to even approach that words, outside of Merrill, who has issues of her own. The sweetness was deceiving. "Machines?" Her eyebrows furrow. "Nah, don't think I've seen any those. I was told it can be dangerous around here, just haven't witnessed it yet. And not from any of us."

[to_defend]

The answer will likely kill any humor in the moment, but that's a story for another time.

It sounded like this 'Humans being nice thing' might be an anomaly. Was it just strange circumstances? Or does everyone she met so far have the potential to turn eventually?

She does seem to relax hearing there were no Machines so far. It hadn't looked like thy'd been around, but she didn't want to be wrong about that.

"So, you're expecting outside dangers?"

[championofsnark]

"I think so, yeah. There's been some implication that we should all be ready just in case something happens." Hawke shrugs. That seems like the right way to go about anything. Nothing was ever peaceful enough to be real. She isn't afraid of what might come up later on, and it shows. She's been up against a shiteload of things by this point in her life. If most of the time it's more like this, she can live with it.

"People're trying to figure out why we're here and how it happened. Scientists and the like, the ones with the big brains, want to know what was done to us. So if you have questions about that, you can ask them for ideas, but I don't think anyone has all the answers yet." Hawke hadn't asked anyone, and has no plan on it either. She doesn't really care about the whys. This is all she has. So it's fine. Maybe she'll help if other people want to leave, but until then, she's just rolling with it.

[to_defend]

She listens, but something about what Hawke is saying stirs some uncomfortable memories for 7; scientists, brains, she's seen how it's lead to war and destruction. She's seen what asking questions can do.

"I'm not really one for questions. Maybe, what's out there - what will I have to deal with, but I leave the big brains to other people."

[championofsnark]

"Same here, sister, same here. I'm not in a hurry to leave. In fact, I can't really leave, so it's a moot point for me. But I would want to help the rest of you, if it's better." Hawke's fine with that. And if it became an all-or-nothing thing, she'd do it for them. She's comfortable seeing this place, strange and random as it is, as a forever situation. It's not like she has a real choice.

"The inn here as food and drinks for everyone, and group supplies. Generally there's plenty to do and see if you're the curious sort. But you don't need to wander around the shadows. The danger won't come from in the village. You might make some new friends! I did."

[cannily]

Caridis had been so tightly packed, its canals and alleys purposefully built into a narrow maze, it was easier to move along rooftops when able. The buildings here are too widespread, too low to the ground, to allow much the same--but he likes the rooftops all the same.

They have a certain texture under his feet, a certain vantage, that puts him at ease. He can see people, and they often enough don't see him.

While most often he uses the Inn's roof to play, sometimes he lingers in the houses he borrows for a bath. If he's lit the furnace anyway, why not heat a little breakfast, why not make a hot drink to balance up through attic windows, and watch the sun rise later and later each day?

Usually, there's no one about. Usually, no one skulks.

He pulls his legs up from the eaves and closes up around his tea, watching over the rim. She--it takes a moment to glimpse a face and make the guess--is too wet for the morning dew, and dressed as he had been in the bunker. Someone new, someone they've managed to miss. The way she moves, is it sympathy to let her pass, thinking it secret, or to let her know the house is warming below him?

The village custom is the latter and he is trying, day by day, to be part of the village. "If you've wearied of darting around, there's no claim on this home, and you can have the first batch of hot water I've started if you'd like."

[to_defend]

7 is wearied, and she's cold, and all of these sensations are new to her. She hasn't been a fan of it.

She looks up at the voice, up up on the roof, taking in his words and then looking at the house. She wasn't sure she was ready for more water, but warmth sounded good.

Taking a few steps towards the door, arms crossed tightly in front of her to try and hold in what warmth she had, she looks up at the guy who'd made the offer.

"Who are you?"

[cannily]

He toasts her, and the cold morning. "I am the diminutive man armed with nothing but a mug of tea, offering you water I've been heating up for myself. You may call me Cael."

The short, weighted dagger he wears on a leather thong is under his clothes, and reserved for people who attack him first. He doesn't consider a lie in context, and drinks smoothly from his mug. "Or just tea, and a fire," he adds with a shrug. "Most of the houses have towels and things as well. It's too small a village to really sneak about in the daylight."

[to_defend]

"Cael. You can call me 7."

She considers his words and gives a tight shrug. "There's too many unknowns not to sneak around."

Daylight or not, she's new, everything about her situation is new, and she doesn't want to take any chances. "But - fire sounds good right now."

[cannily]

She's not wrong: it's just that in his time, the unknowns have multiplied. At the start it's easy to be ignorant of ones own ignorance, it's easy to be another unknown to the people around you, and that can prove dangerous.

"It's in the kitchen; stove's lit, with a couple of logs to feed in if you'd like." He tips his mug to her. "I won't be down until I finish this, so you'll have some time to yourself."

He tilts his head, letting his hair fall to one side. "Or I can just go back to the inn when I'm finished, if you're nervous of the company."

[to_defend]

She finds it odd and a little too trusting that he's going to just let her into his space without supervision, but she's not really in a position to be picky. "N-no, it'll be fine."

She'd rather have him where she could see him, but for now she makes her way in and settles down next to the fire. It's an odd thing; in this moment warm and inviting, but as she looks at the flames all she can see is the burning Cathedral. She hadn't been as attached to it as some of the other dolls, but it had been their home for quite some time, and having this sour reminder of what happened with the Flying Machine that lead to its burning is now fresh in her mind.

The flames are hypnotic. She sits with her arms wrapped around her legs, head resting agaisnt her knees, and for a moment loses track of where she is. The warmth against her chilled skin and the crackle of the fire are an odd lullaby, but a soothing one.

[cannily]

Trusting as he isn't, apathy abounds for the state of the houses: it doesn't belong to him, and its only meaning to him is the convenience of its proximity to the inn. Better to leave her at its fire than invite her back, where there might be more people than she'd like to see, or a question of rooms to stay in, further competition for the single bathroom.

And after all this time, coming from the storm of the sea to the then-crowded bunker--Cael can understand the need for a little quiet.

When he does eventually drain his tea, nothing to spill on the trip down, he lands hard from the drop of the little attic entrance. A deliberate thud from the hall, though it's harder to force his footsteps to catch and make sound after. The soles of his boots are soft, shaped well to his feet. "I'll put the kettle back on," he offers, finding her clustered at the fire, still in her wet clothes. "Did you bring the little pack? It should have a dry set of clothes inside, you'll warm up faster if you change."

[to_defend]

The thud is enough to rouse her back to the present, and she looks over as he enters and mentions the pack. Yes, she did, she looks around a moment before she remembers where she set it down. She pulls it over and opens it up, something she hadn't quite gotten around to doing yet.

He's right; there is a change of clothes in there and is relatively dry within the pack. She starts to pull it out to see; long johns, overall, socks, content with all of it, she starts to undress where she's sitting. In case Cael happens to notice between the time she pulls her previous out fit off and replaces it with the longjohns and overalls, her back is largely covered in tight, twisted scarring.

Change complete, she shoves the damp scrubs into the bag and sighs. She was considerably more comfortable now. She stands and walks over to join Cael in the kitchen. She still hangs back a little, but watches him with a little more curiosity than wariness.

"So, tea? What is tea?"

[mediumhoodie]

Kat was working outside of her house when she spotted something at the corner of her vision. It was a brief flash of blue and then it was gone. She looked up from her garden and brushed the dirt on the side of her dark green scrub pants. She didn't like the pants but they worked well when she was gardening.

"Hello?" She called out, her voice soft and sweet.

"Is someone there?"

She wasn't sure if it was a person or maybe it had been her imagination.

[to_defend]

Ducked behind a corner of the house, 7 debates. She could just leave - hope this woman thought it'd been a trick of the wind - or do the neighborly thing and introduce herself.

She didn't want to do the neighborly thing, though, she really preferred to sit badk and observe ... but that was much easier to do as a doll than it was as a fellow human. Taking a breath, she finally steps around from the corner, though doesn't move much farther than that.

"I'm here. Hi."

She's got on navy scrubs, carting the backpack, wet once but has been here long enough to be fairly dry at this point. It's miserable, but she's putting on a tough face.

[mediumhoodie]

"Hi."

Kat quickly took in the details of the woman before her. She still had the backpack which meant that she was likely new and probably deserved a little bit of warmth and kindness. It was cold and anyone walking around long enough to dry off was going to give themselves a fever.

"Would you like some tea? You look cold. I have some inside."

[to_defend]

"Tea?" She's thinking Kat means the letter, but her context is suggesting something else.

She is cold. She's not used to being cold. "I, could yes."

[mediumhoodie]

Kat's expression remained soft as she waved the young woman inside. It was chilly in the house though it grew warmer as they stepped towards the kitchen. The stove fire was already smoldering and she set a small pot of water over top of it.

"It'll take a moment for the water to boil. I have lavender tea and honey. I hope that's alright." It's what she was able to obtain or grow in her garden.

[to_defend]

7 allows herself to follow Kat into the house, taking it slow and looking all over the interior as they make their way to the kitchen.

She watches Kat put the water on to boil. She watches the fire in the stove. Everything is new to her, or at least seen in an new context. A living context.

"Yeah ... yes, that's fine. I haven't had that kind before."

[mediumhoodie]

"It's good. I've been growing the plants here." She paused and bit her lower lip. "well, someone I knew did but she's gone and I've been tending to her garden in her absence." A sad note colored Kat's tone but she continued as if it wasn't there.

"Are you new?" She nodded towards 7's backpack. "You look like it. Maybe I can help?"

Kat was being nice but she was also itching for a distraction.

[to_defend]

"I am new." She catches the sad note, almost asks a question about the implied departed but thinks better of it. "I'm not sure what I need help with?"

She's got a lot of questions about being human, first off, but she prefers to figure it out herself, and she's not too keen on anyone knowing the current disadvantage she's in.

"Have you been here long?"