sixthiterationlogs

WHO: Emma Swan and You
WHERE: Along the River bank
WHEN: July 10th
OPEN TO:All
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Open

Emma hasn’t had an easy life by any means. It was about as far from easy as a person can get, but Emma wasn’t the type of person to dwell. She shook it off and dealt with the situation at hand. Her current situation, however was how she was going to survive in this place. She had to survive, there was no other choice. Her family needed her and it didn’t matter if she was here or back home, she still had to be strong from them.
Emma walked to the river’s edge, frowning as she looked at the water. It looked much higher than it had been in recent days. She had taught herself how to fish, and even had gone so far as to craft a pole. She continued to frown. Yes, she was the Savior, but she by no means was an outdoorsman at all. She was a creature of comfort, especially since she lacked it growing up.

She shifted the pole in her hands. “Well, isn’t this going to be fun,” She muttered sarcastically. She knew that she probably sounded crazy, talking to herself, but it made her feel less lonely. “I really wish I had been adopted by a fisherman.”

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Peggy's found herself a home.

No, not a home. It's a house. Implying that it holds any sort of warmth or memory or welcomeness that makes it a home would be a farflung stretch, but she has a roof and a bed that makes her feel like she's Goldilocks and the bears will be home at any minute. That house, though, has been flooding in the bathroom since this morning and she's at wit's end trying to stop it.

Inspecting the pipes hadn't helped, because the water seemed to gush and flow, which leaves her trying to find where the source is coming from. When she gets close to what she thinks it is -- the river, which is quite obvious -- and that's when she sees the woman.

"I take it you aren't a natural fisherman?" she remarks, in the process of reaching for a stick in order to mark the level of the water while she speaks to the woman.

Emma turned her head at the sound of the voice, but not her body. She had to concentrate after all. She laughed softly, shaking her head, her long hair blowing softly in the breeze.

"What was the tell?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder. "Yeah I could use a little help. You aren't a closet fisherman are you?"

"I'm not very good myself, but I have seen enough improvised fishing poles to know that without a bit of bait or a lure, you might be here a while," she says, thinking of Dernier fishing for their dinner in that awful little mucky river on their way to Russia. "Would you like me to try and find some worms or something else that you could use?"

"Oh my God," Emma exclaimed as she picked up her empty pole. "I knew I should have been paying more attention when Hook was talking I guess," She turned, looking embarrassed at such a huge blunder, but she could take her knocks like a champ.

"That would be great," She said. "I'd be happy to share. I'm Emma by the way."

"Peggy," she replies, trying to avoid some of the water and the silt of the water as she heads for higher ground to look for moisture-laden earth that would attract some bugs. It's hardly glamorous work, but she's worked on diffusing bombs and flirted with some of the most disgusting of men. This is practically child's play compared to all that. "I take it you're also worried about the food situation?" she asks, craning her head up as she searches.

Emma felt some relief that was another alpha-type female here, not that anyone expected her to be alpha anything. She had tendency to get underestimated most of the time.

She turned back to the water, concentrating on the water, because she didn't know how to do this. "Well, I think starving shouldn't be optional? Besides, I'm a scrapper. What are you worried about?"

"Why we're here in the first place. Why my plumbing appears to be backing up," she lists, "and why those sirens went off when we first arrived." It's been bugging her from the start, perhaps more than the fountain. After all, anyone might have drugged them and forced them into a pocket dimension, but why put them through that windstorm? Why warn them?

Jo was walking this way. She'd been debating going as far as the river could take her along one bank today. See what grew because it was fed so constantly by the water. But getting there, she'd had to help someone with their fishing baskets, and now there was the other blonde girl, the taller one, with a fishing pole, staring at the water, like it might jump up and bite her, more than just overlap in its banks like the other guy.

"Today seems to be a very fish-catching day." Jo said, aware, it felt as odd in her mouth as it sounded out loud once it left her mouth. This place was just full of not much she really wanted to say, do, or be in. Yet she was stuck, here, again. Another time. With all these new people. Most of them with faces she remembered, even if she hadn't gotten to know them the last go around. "Anything biting over here?"

Emma turned slightly at the sound once again over her shoulder. She must be in a popular place, which was totally okay because he needed to make some connections if she wanted to survive.

"Some. now that I actually know how to catch something," She commented, a hint of self-depreciation coloring her voice. "I don't think I better put fishing on my resume though. What are you up to?"

Jo shrugged, simple enough. "Was just thinking to head down the banks as far as I could get before I got hungry, again. See what else might be further down from right here."

Right here, being the roads and where people passed. Even if the place had been deserted of people, it wasn't deserted of old man made places and even of very animal full places that weren't, the two not liking overly to mix even when it fell into disrepair and abandon it had seemed, here and in other places all too like this one. "Maybe there will be stuff that's grown up near the rivers, due to all the water, and whatever? See if I could scout out anything useful we haven't all found sticking close to town and each other yet."

Emma looked thoughtfully at the young woman. It was like looking in a mirror for Emma, this young woman reminded her so much of herself when she was younger. "That's a good idea," She complimented. She paused. "Hey, weren't you at the scouting thing? I thought you looked familiar."

Emma turned back towards the water as she got a nibble. "Would you want to maybe share anything you find?"

Jo doesn't notice the appraise, or if she does, she doesn't react to it much. She used to people doing it. Especially people who are her peers and brand new to these kinds of situations. She made that happen by putting a gold star in the center of her forehead the first day, and it's all she can do to just let it ride.

"Yeah, Jo." She keeps it even, keeps it calm. "It was Emma, right?"

Not that she needs to ask. She remembers that part well enough, even though they knew each other. Her face is vaguely familiar without being specifically familiar. She just trundles it all together, keep her words flowing. "--And, sure. I like the idea of knowing more about just what we're up against here, and maybe it's all pieced together."

Emma nodded, finally tearing her eyes away from the young woman. "Yeah, Emma. Sorry, it's just that you startled me a little. You remind me of myself when I was younger."

It was an easy enough thing to say, but why was Emma having such a hard time admitting it. She shook her head slightly. Maybe because she hoped that Jo didn't have to go through the shit she did.

"Everything is always connected, at least in my experience." She mentioned. "We all know that fishing is not my forte, but how about you?"

Jo narrowed her eyes. The whole movement asking more a question of Emma and her thought process than it actually gave away anything of Jo's own reaction. Which wasn't, honestly, much of one even. She'd let hundreds on hundreds of people assume what they wanted about her, and that she could easily use to her own benefit, for at least the last third of her life.

Her question is honest and common as a handshake. "Oh, are your people -- do they age differently than most people?"

She'd met immortals before. People in bodies that looked only barely the age of herself and her peers, but still who'd been around these universes for longer than people and even planets had. Angels and Gods, and even races that weren't but went right on looking human regardless of those facts entirely.

Go Fish

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