Arrival: A new land

[seekingvinland]

WHO: Thorfinn Thorsson
WHERE:  The Fountain
WHEN: July 13th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Closed

---

It's another nightmare.

It was the first thought that crossed his mind when he felt the water around him and his eyes flew open. He needed air… Dream or not, Thorfinn had little choice but to push up towards the light in the distance. Swimming was always one of his strong points. Kicking as hard as he could for the surface as his lungs started to burn desperately needing air. When Thorfinn came bursting through the water his scarred hands grabbed onto the edge of the fountain. Coughing heavily as he heaved himself over the edge onto the ground.

This was the strangest dream he had ever had… Well, kind of.

It took a few moments of coughing to get the water out of his lungs before he could breath. Pushing himself onto his hands and knees and sitting back his long blonde hair plastering to his face. He his eyes widened as he looked around him. Something akin to fear started to fill his senses… This wasn't the bodies of the dead, this wasn't his father or Askeladd. This wasn't a dream.

From the way the air felt on his wet skin, to the strange ground beneath his hands biting into his palms. It all screamed reality. It was no dream.

"Móðir! Einar! Ylfa!"

He called out the names of those who had been in the house when he had slipped to sleep. His instincts seemed to finally catch up with him as he pushed himself to his feet. He was in strange shoes he had never seen before. Clothes like those almost from a dream. A dream that he had long forgotten. One of strange islands in the sky connected by small bifrosts. He stood there examining the strange light gray clothing on him. Confused and soaked to the bone.

"Hvað er þetta? Hvar er ég? Odin, gefa mér merki."

Comments

[seekingvinland]

Still standing examining the strange clothes he was in as his hair and body dropped the water all around him. He had yet to notice the pack on his back or the fact someone else was getting closer. His sharp instincts only went so far when his mind was in such a state of confusion as it was. What was this...

He looked up, hearing the voice of the young woman. He was nearly the same height, maybe a quarter of an inch taller. The words don't click at first aside from shit and No English. He's spoken those words many times in his years. A worried look crosses his face as he lets go of the wet shirt and lets it fall back against his scarred skin.

"No." He replied, a heavy accent, it was harder to place in modern day but something akin to someone from Scandinavia. "No English." He shook his head as if to show he understood that much.

"Talarðu Norse?"

He was hopeful, but also pessimistic on the issue. He should have made Einar teach him English...

[teen_angst_bullshit]

Veronica wrinkles her nose with an apologetic frown, and shakes her head. Norse is definitely not in her skill set.

"No," she says, "sorry," although there's no telling whether he understands that word or not. People converse despite language barriers all the time, but this isn't exactly an ideal situation. How does she possibly communicate that she has no answers for him when he's just found himself in that damned fountain? It's a shitty thing to hear even when you know the language.

Recognizing her own limitations, she motions for him to follow her. If she takes him to the inn, maybe one of the others knows one of the Scandinavian languages.

[seekingvinland]

Thorfinn nodded when she shook her head. He understood that as well as the word no. Sorry was not a word he recognized, but from the frown and that shake, he assumed it was some kind of confirming that she didn't speak his language.

He wanted to turn and try to go back into the water. He wanted to try and figure out what was going on and where he was. However, she's motioning for him to follow and that seems smarter than diving into the fountain. So, he nodded to show that he understood but didn't try to speak again, he followed along after her.

A curious glance moved around as he walked behind her. He was taking in the sight of the things they passed.

[teen_angst_bullshit]

Nobody's declared the inn an official meeting place, but most of them had seemed to end up there that first day, and since then it's become an easy haunt. Even if no one's there, there's a decent chance that somebody will happen by eventually.

After it became clear that the insane wind wasn't going to be a regular occurrence, somebody had opened up the building's shutters, and she herself had helped a little bit with airing out the front room. It's still dusty as she leads their latest arrival inside, but it's a far cry from the thick miasma that greeted them that first afternoon.

Of course no one's there now, because that's just her luck, but at least there's a place to sit and someone has left a modest pile of firewood beside the hearth.

"Veronica," she says, pointing to herself. "Cold?" she asks, making a shivering motion and then pointing to the fireplace.

[seekingvinland]

Thorfinn followed along silently, twisting his long wet hair trying to wring it a bit more dry since he had no means to tie it back at the moment. It was better than just letting it plaster to his face. He kept looking around as he followed Veronica to towards the inn.

The size of the building caught his attention before anything else. It was quite a large hall, almost like a king Swyen's stronghold. he took a moment to just marvel at the building before realizing the woman had already headed inside. He followed along, not at all bothered by the dusty nature of the place. His eyes scanning around to see what all was before him.

When she spoke again he tipped his head some before it clicked. Veronica was her name. "Thorfinn." He responded in his heavy accent. Before shaking his head no, he was cold but not a terrible amount. He figured it would pass fast enough. "No." He spoke the english word he knew, "Iceland." He spoke the name of the place he was from, thinking maybe it might help the other to know if she knew of Iceland. It was always cold.

[teen_angst_bullshit]

"Ah," Veronica says with a slow nod, her smile a little strained. "Yeah, this is probably balmy for you, then."

It's an awkward situation she's in here, and she almost wishes he'd answered to the contrary. That, at least, would have given her something to do, the distraction of prepping and lighting a fire better than this uncertain silence spooling out between them. Calm exterior or not, there's a good chance he's freaking out, and she's apparently a poor excuse for a welcome wagon.

"This place," she tries, pointing down, and then after reconsidering, motioning more broadly around them. "It's a mystery," she finishes with an exaggerated shrug, lifting her hands up to try and communicate how little she knows, even now.

"I was in America," she adds, pressing fingers to her chest. "Before here." A motion behind her.

[seekingvinland]

He focused on her while she spoke trying to read her body language. To try and move past the words, he only knew what a couple of the words she had spoke meant, not enough for a real understanding and it showed in his face. He looked concerned and lost. He moved to find a place to sit, he didn't care at all that he was soaked to the bone. The strange faberic, the heavy boots and the lack of anything he knew. These things were more important than being soaked.

He put both hands into his hair leaning on one of the tables looking at the door a moment. He knew he had to stay calm, nothing good ever came from letting his emotions run rampant. Taking a deep breath he looked at the table.

"Mercia?" He asked looking back up, removing his hands from his hair. Before here. he understood, he nodded making a bit of a face, America sounded familiar like something from a far away dream, she didn't sound like she was from Mercia. He spent long enough there to know that accent.

How did Leif do this...? How did Leif travel and meet so many and do it so cheerfully without these kinds of problems?

Slowly his eyes widened more, he was being stupid. EVERYONE knew Leif the lucky! He felt hope growing, but hope rarely did him good.

"Iceland." He repeated the word. Even if he had already said that was where he was from, it was important he had finally gotten home to his family. "Leif Eriksson." He spoke Leif's name, everyone knew Leif back home, or of him. He looked hopeful finally. Hopeful that the woman knew the man that was practically family to him.

[teen_angst_bullshit]

"No," Veronica replies with a slight shake of her head, thinking she must have simply done a poor job of ennunciating. "America." She points to herself as she says it, and then motions to Thorfinn. "Iceland."

Her attention snags despite herself, however, because Mercia isn't a nonsense word, Mercia is a place -- Or had been, back in the Middle Ages. And as she looks Thorfinn over now, an impossible comprehension begins to dawn.

They're from all different times and places, aren't they? Or at least they think they are.

"It's further West," she weakly says, her mind trying to rebel against the idea that whatever this place is, it's actually capable of tossing in a genuine viking.

[seekingvinland]

He shook his head some, looking to Veronica again. He couldn't fully grasp what she was saying. Not in words anyway. He could tell she was trying to explain where America was, but he couldn't quite understand it. west sounded closer to vestur which was the same thing.

A vast land to the western sea.

It couldn't be though, his mind couldn't accept that.

"Ég hef aldrei heyrt um Ameríku. Ég vel ferðast. Aldrei hef ég heyrt svona nafn." his words came out heavy, but slower. He knew he wouldn't be understood he had dealt with those that spoke English before, but he still had to try.