sixthiterationlogs | what does it mean when you drown in a dream

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what does it mean when you drown in a dream

WHO: Kate Kelly
WHERE: The Fountain
WHEN: 15th July
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Potential panic attack
STATUS: Open

Kate wonders if her family has a touch of foresight. Ned predicted two deaths: Constable Lonigan, Justice Barry, both died as he said. She dreams of drowning and wonders. Wonders and then drinks, not that drinking helps her when she's already asleep and she opens her eyes underwater and thinks, Again?

There's light, which there isn't always, and a current that pushes her up, which never happens, and she kicks, kicks her way up.

(Is it her imagination or is she actually getting closer in this dream?)

There's weight on her back, pulling at her, digging into her shoulders, making it harder to move her arms. Her imagination or no, no, no, something always goes wrong, she always drowns and this is it, isn't it isn't it isn't it maybe she should just swallow water choke and wake up but that doesn't work she can't wake up she just has to kick and kick and kick and swim and oh God oh God she's actually drowning isn't she air air air air she needs air-

She reaches the surface, gasps, bobs back down, then kicks herself up again.

Air.

Coughing, spluttering, Kate swims over to the edge of the fountain. She takes a moment to haul herself over the edge, falls, but the fall isn't much. More of a roll until she hits the ground, struggles to all fours, all the while coughing up water fit to throw up.

She knows what she needs to it. Sit up, take stock. This isn't a dream, it's not. She needs to get her long, heavy hair out of the way to see, but she can't. All she can do is crouch, cough, and gasp in air.

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"Ah, now fairies was it?"

She's recovered enough to say it, at least, not just think it. Carefully, Kate sits up, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and tries to avoid smearing wet dirt on her face. Then it's her hair that's the trouble, heavy and soaked and knotted. She wrings it out as she takes in the woman.

"You sound American," she says then, slowly instead of sharp. Thoughtful instead of a snap.

Nerys had had the full story from Chief O'Brien about fairies (after a number of instances of hearing him rant about them getting into the station's notoriously temperamental Cardassian systems), so that, at least, she understood. American, not so much. "Fairies, well, as good a theory as anything I've come up with yet," she said with a wry smile. "But I'm afraid I don't know what you mean by..."

She found herself fumbling over the word a little in her mouth. "Amerkin." Pausing for a second, contemplating whether or not it was wise, she added, "Did you want a hand with that? I don't have a towel or anything, I'm sorry."

Although, come to think of it, if it was the Fair Folk, she'd think there'd be rather more dancing and singing and feasting going on. She'd be dressed in a flimsy fairy gown of gossamer silk and waste a hundred years in a night.

Kate is perfectly content for it not to be fairies, in all honesty.

She's distracted from saying anything by the woman's next comment. She doesn't...understand? But she's speaking English.

Although she still has water in her ears. Maybe that is the issue.

Maybe.

"I'll accept a hand up, once I think it's safe for me to stand," she says, half-meaning it. The other half is the show she's willing to accept help, bend towards another person.

"What happened to my clothes?"

"Take your time and get your feet back under you," Nerys replied softly, wryly adding, "Believe me, no one's in a hurry around here, and it's better if you're in good shape and don't get sick." She wasn't exactly sure what, if anything, they'd do if someone did get sick, or collapse from exhaustion--as far as she could tell from chatting with others, no one was a doctor.

"We all came out of the fountain, a few weeks ago," she said, by way of explanation of the woman's question. "And everyone was wearing those flimsy clothes, in different colors--and everyone has a pack with another set. Out of nowhere. Believe me, I'd like my uniform back myself." Nanofiber would be really, really welcome, but Nerys was pretty confident she wasn't going to see anything like it soon.

Edited 2016-07-26 22:09 (UTC)

No doctor within riding distance here, even providing you could afford the fee or the debt. Still, she doesn't find the idea as dismaying as she might have otherwise: doctors are not something she's had much experience of. If you get sick, you get sick and you just try and get on with it.

But she agrees with the short-haired woman that it'd be better not.

Not that she says so, as she's just staring at her in utter dismay and utter disquiet.

"So," Kate says, carefully, "our captors have... Undressed us. And put these things on."

She's not wearing her nightdress. She's not wearing anything proper - not drawers, not chemise, not corset - and their kidnappers have come along and taken their clothes away.

There are other questions. What's in the pack? How many are there? Do we have food? Weapons? Are there fences? Who are the other people? Uniform?

But for the moment, she's stuck as a crippled cow in mud.

To a certain extent, Nerys was considerably less inclined towards the idea that they'd been stripped--she knew full well that it was pretty easy to do with a transporter, given the right kind of skill. That didn't mean she wasn't disturbed about it all, though, and damn, she wanted decent clothes back too.

"Somehow," she agreed, voice quiet, because it was obvious and she wasn't going to lie about it just so they could pretend. "It's pretty...messed up. Everyone's still trying to figure out what could have happened, people seem to have all come from really different places."

Kate comes from a time of rumours, of kidnappings and drugging and hypnotism. The only way to get her would be to come into her room, pick her up, take away. People waking up in other places entirely moved is from tales you tell children about the Old Country and fairies and pixies and magic rings. Real magic is more subtle, she thinks, if it truly exists beyond someone having a touch of foresight, a gifted hand with animals.

"Where are you from? You don't know America." Kate worries at her bottom lip for a moment. "I'm... I was in Adelaide, capitol of South Australia, a colony on Australia. Where are you from?"

She's repeating herself, she can hear it, but the enormity of it all is starting to be far, far more terrifying than drowning in that fountain.

Something in the woman's expression made Nerys hesitate a moment. She bought time by parsing the accented Standard, which she hadn't been able to place until now. As far as she could remember, she had never met more than one or two humans from that part of Earth, at the very most, though she had heard of it, and she'd finally been able to figure out that the woman had meant America, upon hearing it a second time. The lack of her commbadge's universal translator was becoming obvious.

But that was beside the point, as Nerys knew enough about Earth to know there had been no colonies in Australia for a very, very long time, and she didn't want to terrify the other woman even further or drive her away by sounding crazy (admittedly, she hadn't been surprised at Nerys' nose, which tickled the back of Nerys' mind a little until she set the thought aside). But at the same time she didn't want to lie, sensed that would go down about as well as 'I'm not from Earth and I'm not a human being'. She had to tread carefully.

"Look, it's not that I don't want to explain, but you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said, with a humorless snort of a laugh. "You'd probably think I was nuts. I sure did when I met a couple of other people here."

This gets a sharp, measuring look. It's the look of someone who has be condescended to her whole life by authorities and is heartily sick of it. But it's also the look of someone who has been trying to teach herself not to throw herself into a passion, stamp her foot and demand answers.

It's a shifting set of scales, when to push and when not to. She wants to know. But...

But she has to tread carefully, while she has a grip on her temper.

"If you met other people here with surprisin' tales, I'm goin' to as well," Kate points out. "Maybe I should hear it from you first."

The look was instantly recognizable to Nerys, as it was one she herself had given more than a few people on more than a few occasions, both to people she respected and to people she didn't. More often to the latter--and if anything, it told Nerys that her gut instinct about this woman was correct, and that it would be a very bad idea to get on her bad side.

It was always a bad idea to cause Nerys' own ire, after all.

Because of that recognition, she decided to go with the unvarnished truth. "Good point," she admitted, and cocked her head a little to look the other woman straight on. "Here's your first tale, then: my name is Nerys. I'm from Dahkur Province on a planet called Bajor, but I lived on a station in space, near my homeworld, in the Earth year..." she did a couple of quick calculations in her head, then snorted a laugh again, "2371. Surprising enough, I guess."

She stares. Really stares. She knows, she did say that she wanted it from the woman first and straight. And the woman did say that she, Kate, wouldn't believe her. Think her crazy.

Without her really meaning to, she can feel her face crinkle as she tries to work through it, however disbelievingly.

Sideways. Maybe if she circles around, approaches sideways, she'll understand how, how.

"So, have I travelled in time, or have you?" Kate asks, finally. Disbelieving. But willing to go with it, roll with it, continue the pretence for now. "It's the year 1883. July. July, 1883."

In response to the stare and the confused expression, Nerys simply gives the woman a look of hey, I told you, though it's more muted than it might be otherwise, considering the person she's looking at has been through a lot of trauma in the last hour or so.

Her own expression eases, softens, though, once the other woman speaks again.

"1883," she echoes, and remembers Peggy is definitely from after that, but far before Nerys' own time, and Watney doesn't even make sense in how she understands Earth history. It's not like she's an expert, admittedly, so maybe she's missed something. "I think we both have, honestly. Other people here are from other places, other times."

It all is starting to build a picture in Nerys' mind, though it's not a picture she likes much, and it's riddled with more holes than the caves at Undalar.

It's too much, it's so much, it's too much, and Kate can feel her mouth waver, her chin tremble. She wants to cry, is what she wants to do. She wants to hit things and scream and she wants to cry because none of makes sense, none of it.

Instead, she jerks her chin up to keep her head high, and hopes her eyes don't seem too bright.

"Are we still on Earth?"

The effort that the other woman is using to keep herself together is obvious to Nerys, and if they aren't on Earth, well, fuck knows where they are, then. So she doesn't lie when she says, "As far as I know, we're on Earth, yes. It looks like the pictures I've seen, and from what some of the others say about the plants and animals here, they're all from Earth."

Some nights, lying awake, deep down, Nerys isn't sure how she's going to manage to keep having a sinoraptor's heart on a world where no one's ever heard of one, but she'll have to manage.

"Look," she says, clearing her throat a little. "Can I get you some fresh water or something? We can find you somewhere to clean up and rest."

She doesn't know what to do. She's spent so much of her life knowing. Knowing how to keep going, do all the chores, wake the babies and get them fed, clean up the mess, keep the farming going, keep going, do everything. But she doesn't know where she is. When, when she is which is something she'd never had to think about.

And she's been kidnapped, stripped, tossed in a pool.

Really, Kate wants nothing more than to throw herself on the ground and scream for her ma.

"Rest and clean up," she manages. "Please. That sounds grand."

"Do you want a hand up to your feet?" Nerys asks, carefully. Some people don't, and right now the young woman seems like she may spook, like a feral verdanis or something. The last thing she or Nerys need is to get more upset--the whole fucking thing, this whole place, is upsetting enough as it is.

"It's not far from here, the inn," she clarifies. "We'll find you a bath, though it'll probably be cool water, this time of day."

It takes Kate a moment, but finally she nods, extends her hand, lets Nerys pull her up. She tries not to cling, but the other woman is at least alive and solid, like she's not a dream.

"That's all fine," Kate says, quiet but a little puzzled. A bath? Only rich women have baths. Pitchers and basins are good enough for the likes of her.

But the comment about the water being cool is... Reassuring. Normal. Of course it'd be cool, no one's put it on the stove in case of almost-drowned newcomers.

Kate's silent as they walk to the inn, answering any questions but not volunteering much. She doesn't mean to be rude, she's just trying to... To understand. To wrap her mind around this.

And as they get to the inn, and then inside, she thinks Nerys might just understand that.

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what does it mean when you drown in a dream

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~just to wrap the thead