Sabriel Arrival

[bindsthedead]

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?

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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.

Comments

Arrival;

[313_248_317_60]

It's been just over two weeks since Connor visited this site. Two weeks of frustration, questions, scans, and samples all returning no answers. Where he is. How any of them got here. And most importantly: how to get out.

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.

Library

[notyourrookie]

It's starting to become clear that he and Maine don't actually know what they're doing. Oh sure, they're both terrifying and competent, but not in ways that work well for them here. They can kill, but hunting is different from combat. And neither of them are the world's greatest cooks. Heating up an MRE is about as close as Wash has got to it, considering he's lived in the military, or in prison, his entire adult life.

Which is why he's awkwardly making his way around the library. The books mostly seem to cover useful topics. Trapping might be helpful, and what to do with the things when you've caught them. He approaches the table with a stack of books and glances at the young woman already sitting there.

"Do you mind if I-"