Sabriel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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sixthiterationlogs2019-01-19 10:24 pm
bindsthedead) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2019-01-19 10:24 pm
Entry tags:
Sabriel Arrival
WHO: Sabriel
WHERE: The bunker, and South Village
WHEN: January 20 to January 24
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Discussion of and thoughts of death, mentions of violence?
WHERE: The bunker, and South Village
WHEN: January 20 to January 24
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Discussion of and thoughts of death, mentions of violence?
Arrival; Closed to 60; Jan 20
Sabriel floats in the tube. She doesn't wake, instead dreaming of a river, dank and cold and relentless, and of stars that spread out forever, becoming symbols that swirl and dance around her.
If it weren't for the display showing that she's very much alive, she'd be pale enough to be a corpse, black hair floating around her face like some strange kind of seaweed.
South Village; OTA Jan 20-24
Sabriel wastes no time trying to get a sense of where she is. She's been stripped of her magic, her sword, her bells... and she needs to get back to the Old Kingdom as quick as she can. Touchstone's waiting for her after all, and there is work for them both in the Old Kingdom.
But she isn't stupid enough to go running off into the wilderness- everyone here has arrived in a similar manner to her, and if there was a sure or easy way back, they would have taken it. So she moves through the buildings, and stops in the Inn, reading over every record she can find and committing all of it to memory. She's not sure what to think of the history of previous incidents, but at least the information about plants and animals is helpful, even if there doesn't seem to be a complete map. And they're serving lunch, which is always helpful.
Next she heads to the library, reviewing the information about surviving in the wilderness- she knows some of it, but she's also used to having tools and powers that she no longer possesses. So instead she reviews the information about building fires, foraging setting up snares, field-dressing game, finding and building shelter- there's a lot to review. And it helps her keep her mind from wandering back to other things, like the feeling of being pierced by her own sword, or her father- And Colonel Horyse- and Ellimere-
Sabriel realizes she's been staring at the same page for five minutes, and her hands are shaking. She steadies them, and turns the page.
That evening, she curls up in a corner of the inn's front room and tries not to cry. She has to live, and she has to get back to the Old Kingdom.
The next day, things are a little easier- she visits the blacksmith's and the butcher's and several other places in the village, to see what people do, and if there's any way she can be useful.
The day after, she borrows a spear and knife from the village store, and goes hunting- it's mostly an excuse to see what's in the wilderness around the village, but when she returns with a rabbit, she feels more useful than she has since she arrived.
Arrival;
That being the case, it's time to review some of the preliminaries. Starting with the delivery mechanism. Connor's spent the bulk of the last few hours combing through the server rooms. Teasing apart what encrypted data he could, skimming through the list—of imports, he presumes? He's investigated the alarm system. And made his way, finally, back here.
The spatters of thirium at one end of the room have long since evaporated—and been tracked over by more wet and dripping shapes, besides. Connor shifts his focus in and out out of scanning mode, left hand twisting idly at the knife stashed in one pocket... until a thunk of displacement in one of the tubes makes him look up.
A woman. Pale, dark-haired, apparently human. Dressed in the same navy blue he wears beneath his coat. Connor removes his (empty) hand from the pocket, walking up to the display. Sabriel. Is she awake?
He knocks once on the glass casing.
no subject
But she has enough presence of mind to shut her mouth and try to conserve what air she has, hands reaching out to find smooth glass that isn't what she'd expect to find in Death, and when she sees a blurry figure beyond the glass, she reaches out and slams her open palm into the glass.
She has to get out- that's all she can think about as she struggles to hold her breath.
no subject
For the second time in as many weeks, he keys in maintenance mode. Sabriel will find the water draining through the bottom of the tube containing her. Once it's entirely flushed out, the front will open.
no subject
When she steps forward, her body is tense, ready to fight or flee, but there's an instant where her expression becomes unfocused as she tries to reach for the Charter, only to feel... nothing. Is she so far south of the Wall? who is that man? Her posture stiffens, hands reaching for sword and bell, only to grasp empty air, and she frowns, one hand pressing against her stomach- she can still feel something, but the wound seems to be mostly healed.
"I am Abhorsen," she says, looking at the man with wary curiousity, "And- where am I?"
no subject
...None of it looks particularly promising. Still, it's not as if he has any better leads.
"The bunker," he replies, stare locked in fixed analysis of her expression. "What do you remember?"
no subject
Still, he didn't attack her when he had the opportunity, so she tries to recall what just happened, keeping her voice as level as she could.
"I was stabbed- and I wasn't allowed to die, not until there was someone else to be Abhorsen- then I was back in Life. Then I was in the tube- were you the one who opened it?" Was he a rescuer, or her kidnapper?
no subject
"Yes." Obvious, and irrelevant. He presses again, tone sharp. Demanding. "Do you remember anything about the tube? How did you get there?"
Connor hadn't remembered. Neither had anyone he'd asked back in the village. But if there was any chance a fresh arrival might retain some scrap of recollection...
no subject
Sabriel shuts her eyes and tries to remember- and then she pulls up her shirt to reveal an ugly wound on her stomach, where Kerrigor had stabbed her. It's closed over and just stared to scar, and yet it looks better than she remembers it, when she'd stumbled back into Life and felt the healing spell her friends had put there. She reaches back, feeling the place where the sword came out of her back. Then she looks closely at her hands. Her fingernails look the same, and her callouses haven't faded. She looks up at the man, and speaks, her tone even as she notices he's wearing something on his wrist like she is. Some sort of bracelet?
"I can't remember. But my fingernails haven't grown or been cut, and the callouses on my hands haven't faded, so I can't have lost that much time- and yet I've been healed by something, and someone's changed my clothes." She should not feel as well as she does now with the amount of blood she remembers losing. She wants to ask... well, several questions, but he doesn't seem the sort for idle chatter. And unless he's trying to test her memory, he probably doesn't know how she arrived here either. She takes off the backpack she just realized she was wearing, keeping her eyes on the man.
"What can you tell me about this place? Where in Ancelstierre is it?"
no subject
His stare searches her features for the slightest sign of hesitation. The smallest blink or pause. If she were another android, this is when he'd reach to take her wrist: forcing a connection, scouring every fragment of memory for even the smallest of clues. But she isn't. There's nothing to search. No leads—not even doubt—to press for. Connor's mouth flattens, LED spinning a sharp and irritated flash of yellow.
Another day wasted.
Her own analysis is... something. A healed injury, but no other signs of time. Biological stasis? Regenerated tissue? All secondary to the transport question, but it's information on their captors' capabilities. Maybe. His words are still short and irritated as he turns away, walking back toward the server room.
"It isn't."
no subject
"Then where are we? There's too much technology for it to be the Old Kingdom." Sabriel doesn't mean to sound like a prefect prodding an underclassman, or like she was speaking to Mogget when he was being unhelpfully cryptic, but it ends up coming out that way. It's hard to hold onto gratitude when dealing with someone who simply acts annoyed.
"I take it you can't or won't answer why I'm here either."
no subject
"Don't let yourself be fooled by what's on hand." A hand waves idly at the server room as he steps in... before curling inwards, tapping at his chest. It's an inclusive phrase. The android's eyes flick back to Sabriel, expression schooled to perfect, polite neutrality. It's as if he hadn't noticed her condescension even a little.
"Everything outside this bunker is as useless and primitive as you're no doubt accustomed to."
...well. Maybe a little.
no subject
"I did spend thirteen years in Ancelstierre- I know about cars and telephones and radios." But she keeps her voice level and her tone polite- she's heard enough comments in Ancelstierre about the Old Kingdom for the words to have any sting. She needs to understand what's going on, and antagonizing her only source of information won't help. She rummages in the backpack she was given, frowning as she finds more unfamiliar clothes- but she pulls out the coat anyway, noticing it's the same as the one the man is wearing. So he arrived as she did- are they the only two, or are there others? Why were they taken?
no subject
"Technology doesn't exist outside certain areas. Present company excluded." Eyebrows raise, and the skin from his hand begins to peel back: revealing bone-white plastic exoskeleton beneath.
"Like I said. I'm sure you'll feel perfectly at home."
no subject
"So Ancelstierre isn't as advanced as its citizens believe," It's spoken more to herself than to Connor, but her attention shifts back to him.
"So you're some sort of- mechanical Sending? One not bound to any particular location, or our captors wouldn't have been able to take you. And whoever made you gave you a face, and a voice." And far more of a personality than any Sending Sabriel had met. Why had it- he? let her out of the tube, and asked her those questions?
"Since our definitions of 'primitive' don't seem quite the same- does yours include plumbing and roofs that don't leak? Perhaps even telephones? It can't be too primitive, or people would be trying to live in this bunker."