sixthiterationlogs | [OTA] Better Than The Lifestream

WHO: Reeve Tuesti
WHERE: South Village Fountain, Inn, Around Town
WHEN: 12/10 for Arrival and Inn, 12/11 - 12/13 for Around Town
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: None

Fountain Arrival - Can't Swim Well - OTA
They say that when one died they returned to the Lifestream. This was a story Reeve had even more reason to believe these days. That upon death one would float within the waters until their consciousness parted into it, melting like butter into water, flowing and mingling until it became new life. Reeve, himself, though he would like to be a cat if possible. Was it wrong to imagine that he could be a cat, Reeve thought as he felt himself weightless and rising in the water. Hope that as he scattered back into the Lifestream that he'd get to be a cat? Because he couldn't begin to imagine what else suddenly coming conscious in the water could be. Yes, it was colder than he'd imagined, and he felt like he was moving and heavy but... Well, none of Reeve's work or travel had any reason for him to be near water. He didn't swim because he was bad at it, he wasn't flying to Wutai until next week, and the last he remembered he was regarding the ruins of his Headquarters with some disappointment. So water didn't make any sense.
Which of course made this the perfect moment for the strain to really set in on his lungs, because whether his mind was willing to admit what was going on or not, Reeve's body at least handled being submerged in the right way. He was holding his breath and his lungs hurt and that more than anything got him kicking belatedly toward the surface as his eyes opened.

Too bad he was a terrible swimmer. The more he tried, the more it felt like he was just sinking back. Maybe he wasn't in the Lifestream yet, but as he flailed toward the surface with little real hope of making it on his own, it wasn't beyond reason to think he might be there soon anyway.

At The Inn - A Bit Like Home - OTA

It's beautiful, in its own way. In a way that some from Gaia might not appreciate. The structure is old fashioned by Midgar and even Edge's standards, but there was something about the exposed wood, the stone of the fireplace and the hearth, that made Reeve feel almost at home. Not in his suite at the WRO headquarters, or the apartment he had maintained for himself in Midgar, or even his mother's house in Sector Five. No, it was like his childhood, and even with all the strangeness of this place, Reeve felt oddly safe here. He could close his eyes and smell the rich stews his mother made when he was little and drew pictures of fairy cat kings and listened to his father tell the old tales about the spirits of the world and the will of the Lifestream. It was far simpler than the life he had afforded himself, but perhaps this inn made it more comfortable to be in this strange place.

"Now if only there was a hot cup of coffee," he mused as he stared into the fire he was sitting near. "Maybe a nice rasher with a side of beans and some stewed greens."

Or just company. That could work too.

Around Town - When All Else Fails: Plan - OTA

There was no point in letting himself stagnate. A bit of time spent in the Inn appreciating it for the shelter it provided and the warmth, and a lovely meal or two, had been more than enough. This, Reeve was given to understand, was the new way of things. Perhaps he had died in the final acts of Omega and Chaos, but he didn't think so. Perhaps he'd gone to Mideel and fallen into the Lifestream and come out somewhere completely different, though that seemed unlikely too. Or perhaps it was just another one of those strange things that seemed to scatter through life. Would lingering on the impossibility of it really serve any value end?

No. Never had and never would. So Reeve had pushed himself off of his rear and headed out into the village to walk the paths. He considered them as he went, carefully measuring each pace off in his mind, trying to create an image of the arrangement of the place. This many paces between the Inn and the fountain park. This far down the road to a house. A house of so many paces wide, calculated to actual scale in his head because really the math wasn't hard. At each house Reeve paused and allowed himself a bit of an arch of the front. Rude to truly traipse around his new neighbor's properties, but he wanted an idea of each house. And he marveled over how each had not only a distinctive look, but how well it all fit together.

"Interesting, an old fashioned style evocative of something along the lines of Kalm or Nibelheim, and yet with its own style. I wonder what sort of team they got in to build such structures. How did they transport in sufficient materials for construction, or was this all clear-cut for production?"

So many considerations, and he didn't know where to start!

Threaded | Flat

"Tell me about it. I miss cocoa on days like this. But we haven't figured out how to do it here yet" Behind him a tall horned guy is walking over to sit by the fire as well. He is wearing one of the hunter green scrubs cut open down the middle and then belted close.

"I am the Iron Bull. You look like you're new here."

Natasha makes a point of including the fountain plaza in her regular loops through town on errands, especially now that the temperatures are regularly below freezing. It's odd that no matter how cold it gets, the fountain never freezes over, maybe, but that's probably got something to do with the connecting lines to the bunker. Maybe the water is faintly saline, who knows. The point is, if there are going to be people coming through here over the next few months until it warms up, it's gonna be important to get them out of the water right away. Especially if, like it seems here, they can't actually swim.

Spotting the flailing in the water--just a roiling, a splashing below the surface--Natasha doesn't waste any time. She kicks off her boots and tears off her coat and is in the fountain in less than two seconds, diving in headfirst and cutting through the water. It's tricky to get an arm around the flailing figure, but hopefully he'll feel the brief pound on his shoulder to get his attention, followed by a strong arm and stronger pair of legs propelling them to the surface and dragging him to the edge, heaving him unceremoniously to dry land before hauling herself out after him.

She wants to sit there, let them both catch their breath, but that's definitely a good way to end up with hypothermia, which is why he gets exactly ten seconds to catch his breath before she's moving again, a red-headed blur of efficient motion.

"Can you walk?"

“Fricken’ right?” Steph groaned her disgust as she plopped into another fireside chair. “I’ve been here like six months with no caffeine. It never gets easier.”

The blonde’s jeans were positively soaked up to the ankle, and she pulled her damp peacot off to turn it towards the fire in her lap. She’d been running around in the snow more than was strictly wise. She pulled the hood of her long-sleeves black shirt up over her head just enough to cover up her icy cold ears.

At the inn

Arrival

At the Inn