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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"Miss Kate Kelly," Kate replies. There's a faint stress on the 'Miss' - he might talk about not being formal, but she's standing here in wet clothes that cling to her. Without a corset, wearing these thin trousers without a proper jacket or hat, she frankly needs all the propriety she can summon.

"And well I guess, if no one's really happy to be here, it in a way makes us equal?" That's a suggestion, more hopeful than not.

Lord knows that if it all starts coming down to groups with hierarchies, she's not going to fare that well.

He gives her a flourishing bow when she stresses the Miss part; clearly this is a girl who believes in formalities way more than he, himself does. "Miss Kate Kelly," he responds, a silent 'okay, if that's what you want.' Just because Jake doesn't care much for the chain of command — ironic, for an military man — doesn't mean he wants to make others uncomfortable.

"Oh yeah, we're all equal here, hon. Nobody knows what's going on, nobody knows why we're here, everybody's just doing the best they can. Have you found anywhere to live yet?" He gestures behind himself, indicating the houses scattered around. "Most of these are empty, you're free to pick whichever one you want. Or there's the inn, in case you can't commit to a whole house just yet."

She can tell when someone is kidding around at her, but she can also (usually) tell when it's friendly: his flourish gets a quick smile, the first proper smile she's had since arriving.

"I was thinkin' just the inn, for now. I'd rattle around one of these houses without me family or anyone I know."

Unspoken, there's a gap there. See how he responds. Some men respond to that, a pretty girl all alone who can trade companionship for safety. She wouldn't agree (she's not that desperate, yet), but it'd be a useful note on his character.

"And... Have you claimed a house?"

He's relieved when she smiles, even though it is fast and fleeting. Most people, when they arrive, are understandably rattled, and Jake wants to try and put her at ease as much as possible.

"Yeah, I guess if you're on your own, they can be kind of large..."

He'd offer her a room in his own house — Jake makes fun of Cougar for taking in strays, but he himself is far worse when it comes down to it — but despite what he's just said, the houses are actually pretty small, and all three bedrooms have been claimed. Plus, there's something about her demeanor that suggest the offer wouldn't be welcome. Fair enough.

"Yeah, I live at number twenty-two," he says, turning a little so he can point down one of the streets. "It's green, with the white columns. Me and my buddy and his teenage sidekick live there. I think the houses across the street from us are still open, if you ever want to look at them. You and Veronica might get on well, she's seventeen. How old are you?"

And he passes, more than once. He lives with people, and one of them a girl. She's not sure if he means 'sidekick' the way she knows it, as a thief's companion - it all seems something very forward to announce to a stranger outside a criminal setting - but a friend, an apprentice, maybe?

"I just turned twenty," Kate says. She means the 'just', too - it's only been three days.

"Veronica. I'll keep an eye out. It'd be nice having female companionship."

He has no idea if Veronica is a thief or not, although they're all thieves by necessity here, scrounging for tools or weapons in all the empty houses. If she was, he wouldn't necessarily hold it against her. Well. Unless she tried to steal something of his.

His eyebrows lift when she tells him her age — they keep getting younger and younger, that's slightly alarming — but doesn't otherwise comment.

"Yeah, I'm afraid I won't be much help there," he offers with a chuckle. "Though I am great at braiding hair, in case you ever needed help. I got an eight year old niece," he adds for clarification, puffing up with pride. If they were anywhere other than here, he'd be whipping out a photo of Beth, or pointing to his Petunia's t-shirt. As it is, he's just got to settle for talking about her nonstop. "She's a real firecracker."

"I may need some help, at some point. But you never know when braiding comes in handy." In creating makeshift rope, as an example. For trim for clothes and repairs. For leather.

But it's his obvious love and delight in his niece that makes her smile again, and this time, it stays. Lights up her face, turns it warm.

"Good. It always stands a girl well to be a firecracker."

Maybe not as respectable society would think so, but Kate only sometimes pays attention to that.

"Well, you know where I live now, so gimme a holler if you do want your hair braided." He makes finger-guns at her, because he's a giant child, and grins.

Jake will gladly talk about his niece. "Oh yeah. Real scrappy, too. Her mother blames me for that, but I still maintain it's just good ol' Jensen genetics. We can't help getting into fights. It's not our fault truth, justice, and the American Way needs to be upheld."

The sheer fact that he manages to resist posing with his hands on his hips like Superman should be commended.

"Well, my family's Irish, so you won't be gettin' any argument from me."

Not that they believed in the American Way, obviously. But truth, justice, liberty, Not Bowing To The Establishment?

Oh, yes, that's something any Kelly worth their name can get behind. Even now, after the cost of such has been taken.

"What's her name?"

His grin widens, if that's possible. "I thought you had a scrappy look about you." It's a compliment, in case that wasn't obvious. He's not saying she looks scraggly (which she sort of does), but that she looks tough. He's known enough tough women in his life to be able to recognize them when he sees them.

"Beth." Man, he really wishes he had a photo of her now. "Short for Elizabeth. My sister decided to break the whole J-theme our parents had going, and honestly, I think she was right. She's eight now, plays right forward on her soccer team. They're called the Petunias. They're division champs this year. Or, at least. They were, before I came here."

She takes it as a compliment, too. She can guess his meaning, not her physical state but the inner toughness. The inner ability to survive and get on with things. Fight back. She's not sure how true it all really is any more, but compliments are always nice reminders of good things.

He talks about his niece - Beth, short for Elizabeth - and she doesn't know what he means by 'soccer'. Or at least, not really. A football game, she thinks. She doesn't know 'division', either, in the sense he is using, but she can guess.

A girl, playing a football game, for a certain geographic section, and they are the champions of it. At eight. With a girl.

And Jake Jensen is proud of her.

"We'll work out a way to get out of here," Kate says, impulsively. "And you'll see her again."

Edited 2016-07-30 05:13 (UTC)

His smile dims a little, but it doesn't fade completely. He's used to being separated from his family, and not seeing Beth grow up has become par for the course. Sadly.

"Yeah, I know. Eventually."

In an effort to distract himself, he turns his attention to her instead. "What about you? What's your family like?"

Well, she just set herself up for that one, didn't she. But it's only polite to answer him back, however strange it is to talk about her family to someone who hasn't read all the newspaper for the past five years.

"Large and close," is what she says. "Ma had twelve babies and I'm the seventh. Then there's the cousins and second cousins..."

She shrugs, then.

"We're country people, mostly. Have little selections or work in rural towns. No division champions, but we do win horse-races."

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what does it mean when you drown in a dream

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