sixthiterationlogs | (no subject)

WHO: Evie Frye

WHERE: South Village Fountain

WHEN: March 16h

OPEN TO: OTA

WARNINGS: Nothing, will update if needed.

I. The Fountain

Water filled her nostrils at sudden consciousness. The Ganges? She didn’t remember being by the river or a river. But memories didn’t matter when what she needed to do was swim up and out of the water. Sunlight was glimmering above and easy enough to kick up to. Air was taken in sharply as she broke the surface. Blinking away water she saw this wasn’t a river at all. Instead the boundaries were distinct and she found herself in a fountain. One deep enough for a person to sink in. Unusual.

Pulling herself up the side, she landed quietly as possible with the squish of her shoes against ground. Instinct had her reach for a hood that wasn’t there. Evie’s hand reached up again, feeling for the missing piece of fabric that should have been there. And it was then that she noticed the color of her sleeve. And the strange change of fabric. And the strange lack of fabric. Arms out, she looked over herself. What sort of decency would allow this? They looked nearly like undergarments, so simple and plain. She liked the color at least, a deep blue. Self inventory found that her weapons were missing. No hidden blade, no blades at all, no bombs, nothing. That nearly made her feel as naked as the strange clothes. And a strange bracelet that looked nothing like she had ever seen before.

II. Strolling through Town

She was decidedly not in India anymore. And this looked not at all like England either. Which left, well, the rest of the world really. Just not any of the parts of it she had been to. The itch to pull up her nonexistent hood was still there, however she noticed there were some other people in similar clothing. And others in different outfits entirely that bordered from familiarish to not at all.

First step. Establish surroundings. Integrate with the population. Blend. That was doable. In theory. People liked to talk and once she was familiar with the layout of wherever she was maybe this anxious buzzing in her mind would stop. If she was here for now she'd need to know where things were, where to go and where people said not to go. Structures were being noted and mapped as she walked along, faces and voices observed as well in case there seemed to be ones that popped put for interest.

There was none of that instinctive viewing of her surroundings, not as it had been. There was no glowing of targets or information. Concern buzzed in her mind again but she had plenty of skills to sort people out while seeing them as they were. Maybe they were all important. It was a possibility. At least none seemed to give off the instinctive look of enemies. Which might mean nothing at all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Food and fire? In an Inn?" her free hand fluttered to her chest dramatically. It seemed the easy part to focus on for now. How many people there were seemed like it would be more on par with a village with the buildings she was seeing. "Such advanced and unknown technology. Tell me, are you even able to have a pint?"

But she preened for a moment at the assertion of her age and thus the need for his deference. Older and wiser, which was always true but now the impact seemed greater. But the eyebrow curved up as she patted his elbow in her grasp. "If you don't tell me, I'll just find out on my own."

"Given most of the houses don't have either, keep it up," he says, rolling his eyes. "And you've come in on the end of the snow so..." He glances at her, snorting. "No. No beer, though someone makes a liquor that you can get in the kitchen with a strong kick."

Of course he's tasted it. A few times. Just to see how it comes out.

He sighs, strolling along as he considers how to talk about this. "Okay, in fairness? You won't. Only two people know about it and he won't talk, he admits. "I found myself enamored of a gentleman, and I thought it was mutual. Sadly, it turns out he was caught up between two others, and using me as a distraction. I'll get over it," he says, shrugging, still trying to dismiss it.

That actually did surprise her. Such a strange jarring put together of the entirely futuristic and, well, she wasn't even sure. Even in her now fairly extensive travels there had always been something resembling a pint. "No beer at all?" Curiouser and Curiouser. "Is it from lack of materials or lack of fermentable plantlife?"

They both knew that they each had unique ways of getting people to talk. Though, luckily at least a bit of her curiosity was sated, with a tighter grip on her brother's arm. Heartbreak was something that was common, she had been lucky with Henry. Oh, Henry. "Are you certain you don't want me to stab them?" she asked with a half hearted joke of a smile. "I'm very good at it."

"Lack of livable life here," he says, rolling his eyes. "No yeast, but what's wild I've been told. They're working on it, but it has yet to appear," he laments, the pain loud and clear in his voice.

Jacob is quite a moment though at that offer, not looking nearly as amused. "As amazing as you are with a blade, dear sister, I suspect trying to take on this particular person in such a way might well end in your pain. You are good. He is perhaps better," he admits, giving her a pointed look because there are so very few whom he might consider better than either of them, and what training that would take.