sixthiterationlogs | things happen, that's all they ever do.

WHO: Reyes Vidal
WHERE: The bunker; the inn; the village generally
WHEN: Dec 2-5
OPEN TO: OTA, multiples for inn/village allowed
WARNINGS: Nothing really

Arrival in the Bunker (now locked to Kat)
The last he knew, he’d been trying to hitch a ride off Port Meridian, the crashed ark turned human city. He’d been standing in the elevator while it rose sluggishly towards the shuttle bays. Boring enough, yes, because the elevators always seemed to run far too agonisingly slowly despite their complexity, but it hadn’t been nothing out of the ordinary—

Until, the next he knows, the elevator has filled with water. The thought Is the ark malfunctioning manages to run through his head, but then he’s far too busy trying to find the door, failing, running his fingers along the crevices and edges of the container, realising it isn’t actually the lift anymore, and then, his worst nightmare: panicking.

Reyes’ nerves are steely even at the worst of times, but water is simply inexorable, unstoppable, unbargainable. Thankfully, the wait isn’t long before the seal hisses open and the water starts draining and someone (his liberator, he supposes) is helping him out, shaky and wobbly-legged and swearing in Spanish.

South Village Inn, a couple days later (OTA)
Predictably, Reyes gravitates towards the inn. It’s the closest thing to Tartarus, the bar he used to haunt — communal spaces where he can people-watch, get a sense for the group as a whole, possibly even eavesdrop.

But unfortunately, this place is nothing like the neon-soaked dive bar on his slum planet.

The room starts off empty when Reyes begins his inspection, but after a while he hears the creak of footsteps on ancient floorboards, and his head pops up from behind the bar, looking a little sheepish — and empty-handed, dusty. Poking around every single cabinet and shelf has led to absolutely nothing. “Is it true?” he asks with a gesture towards the empty bar, with the sound of a man who’s recently received a horrifying diagnosis from the doctor.

Around the village (OTA)
Reyes will be doing the usual for his first few days: roaming, information-gathering, people-watching, committing the layout of the area to memory. He’s also trying to suss out who lives where and if the fuss of a house is worth it, so can probably be found lingering and staring thoughtfully at the empty buildings, where a neighbour can catch him. He would also appreciate anyone willing to show him where to get/find food etc!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

“Is it?” Reyes honestly doesn’t know what’s normal or odd anymore; it’s been utterly suspended in this place, with all these people from other worlds rubbing shoulders. “I’ve always lived in cramped apartments or on-the-go. First on a station, then on a ship for a while, then another apartment in a settlement while we were terraforming. Similar to this place in ways, I suppose. Except at least there are these… cabins? Bungalows?”

He’s standing nonchalantly with hands in pockets, shoulders thrown back as he examines the buildings like an inspector sizing up the quality of the construction. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he sizes up the woman, too: pretty, brunette, sharp. Not quite as welcoming as others he’s met so far, but in his eyes, some of them have been almost pathologically friendly.

“Reyes,” he says after a moment, offering a hand and a devil-may-care smile, gaze trailing down the line of her throat, her arm. It’s like an automatic switch he can’t quite turn off. “New here, obviously.”

So he was not from Earth at all. Or he was, just one in the far future - with perhaps space travel and space colonization involved. "I think people just call them houses," Bela says. "Bungalows and cabins are entirely different."

She'll ask about the space angle a little later, hoping it would be more interesting than any assumptions she had about it; Bela was the kind of person who liked to keep her feet firmly on the ground...except the times when she had to make a quick escape from anyone who dared to interfere with her business.

"Bela," she replies smoothly, taking his hand to give it a firm shake. "A pleasure to meet you, Reyes."

Don't think she missed the subtle way he checked her out. In fact, Bela is going to do the same to him in return just because she can.

“A somewhat diminished pleasure, considering the setting. I promise I’m better company at parties, compared to lurking around outdoors.”

He’s still chewing over her past words, though, a calculation ticking over behind his eyes before he suddenly adds: “You said these houses are only a century out of date. If I can ask — what year did you come from?”

These buildings almost look like shacks to him, antiquated and ancient, far more than just a hundred years gone. Even for a man accustomed to some truly bizarre sights on the ass-end of the galaxy, the stories from this island’s inhabitants have offered up more strangeness on a platter than he’s used to; Reyes still never tires from picking their brains, combing through their origins, learning more about the various worlds they’ve all come from. It’s a source of never-ending interest, at least, in a world without holovids or books for entertainment.

Bela knows that she isn't unique when it came to being from a different time period; most people she's met so far have come from the twenty-first century. Adjusting to the lack of modern technology and conveniences had been especially trying for Bela but she's survived this long. That counted for something.

"Of course." She nods before continuing. "It was 2008 for me back home. Early April, if you want the specific month." Arriving at the beginning of November had also been a little strange for Bela.

"I will ask the same of you then. What year is it for you in your world?"

It’s a jolt, almost like a sudden douse of cold startling water. Reyes has been doing a good job of projecting casual ease so far, but now a laugh ripples out of him, genuinely taken aback. “God. Well. I mostly knew 2185. So… almost two hundred years’ difference between us, then. Although actually, technically, I’ve come from 2819, but we spent over six hundred years in cryo, so the difference isn’t as much as you might imagine.”

It’s been hard to judge this sort of thing: everyone’s appearance is flattened and equalised here, most even dressed in similar clothing, so there isn’t anything that screams I came from a spacefaring society, I came from swords and sandals.

But he does have an inkling of how bizarre some of this must sound, so: “It’s something of a story, as I’m sure you can imagine. Could tell you all about it over some awful stew sometime.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eye, in the quirk of a smile on his mouth.

As strange as her world is, hearing that from him is a little jarring. She could only imagine what it was like where he was from, how far technology had advanced in two hundred years; even more jarring is learning that he was in some kind of cryostasis for a long time.

Now her interest is fully piqued.

"Oh, I can." Bela flashes him a sly smile, noting the way he was acting right now. "It's a good thing I do love a story. I'd like to take you up on your offer - perhaps when you are more settled?"

She could be patient enough to give Reyes time to find a place to live and get to know the layout of the village first.

"Absolutely. Maybe even after I choose one of these shacks." He gestures vaguely to the row of houses meandering off down the lane. And she'd dodged the particulars of the question earlier (don't think he hadn't noticed), so Reyes tries again now, his voice still casual and gently curious: "Are you an inn-dweller or home-owner? I promise I'm not planning on breaking into any buildings, no matter how suspicious my lurking might look."

Everyone's poor, everyone's scraping by; there's nothing to take from one's neighbours anyway, as far as he can tell, particularly when you can rummage through the communal supplies at the inn anyhow.

Oh, he is a keen one. Asking for specifics on where she lived. Despite his promise, Bela still wants to be careful until she gets to know Reyes and discover if he had any underlying motivations with his question. She also doesn't live alone anymore so putting her housemate in possible danger was not what she wanted.

"I had considered the inn when I first arrived but in the end I chose a house to live in. I enjoy having my own space and no one seemed to discourage it at the time so that's about it really."

One of the first things Bela did was to search for any valuables in the village, finding nothing. It was disappointing.

"The inn is good for a hot meal and drink though."

“Don’t I know it. It was a lifesaver when I arrived.” Well-worn from the seven-hour walk, chilled to the bone, it had been more hiking than he’d done in… well, maybe ever. Before, airborne shuttles or jump-jets had always been there to help carry you bounding across an alien landscape. Being land-bound again was more than an irritation; it was strangling.

“Having my own space is my main reason to look into this, too,” Reyes admitted. They seemed alike in that regard. “Still, it’s probably high time that I got out of your hair — it’s a chilly day, I’m sure you’ve other things to do. And we can catch up properly over a drink some other time.”

Another old habit, hard to shake: you couldn’t just take a pretty neighbour to the bar for a drink. He realised it a moment later, with an apologetic shrug. He’d used to live above a nightclub. The scarcity of alcohol here took some serious readjustment.

things happen, that's all they ever do.

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I am so sorry for the delay

no worries! i'm forever happy to backtag <3

same! :)

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could probs close in yours? :>