sixthiterationlogs | Blown in on an icy wind

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Blown in on an icy wind

WHO: Cirilla
WHERE: The fountain
WHEN: November 29
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: None yet
STATUS: Open!

The brutal gust of cold, and the Wild Hunt’s vessel suddenly lurked in the sea off the coast of the Isle of Mists where she and Geralt stood.

“Get us outta here.”

“They’ll know where we’ve gone. They’ll know how to find me.”

“They already do. Ciri, take us home.”

The world turned in a flare of aqua light as it always does in her travels, and in her dreams. She wasn’t dreaming this time though, Geralt was there, had found her, and they were finally going home; finally to face Eredin and his hoard head on and come what may.

Except the world wasn’t turning the way it always did, and Geralt wasn’t there (had he ever really been?).

Instead of the solid ground of the keep Ciri expected to find on the other side, she was abruptly submerged in water and rapidly floating upward. Something had gone very wrong; even if this wasn’t the first time she had portaled into (or above) water, she had never lost anyone in transit before.

In fact, as she kicked herself to the surface, it became apparent how much more she had actually lost. She felt as though she was swimming wrapped in a potato sack, and it grew heavier as she caught her purchase on the edge of the fountain and hauled herself up over the edge in a sodden heap. It took Ciri a few beats to catch her breath and her bearings, enough to discover that when she reached back her sword was gone (sheath and all) and a pack, somewhat less sodden than the rest of her, had taken it’s place.

She had appeared many places before, but this was unequivocally her first fountain.

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Inside sounded just wonderful to Ciri right at that moment. However she was worried, worried for herself, this new blanket-providing woman, and whoever else might be nearby. She hoped desperately that she had the time to spare, but she really never knew. Something big was going on here though, and it sounded like the woman might have some answers.

"Alright," she agrees cautiously, pulling the blanket tighter around herself, some part of her saying a silent prayer that wherever 'inside' is it doesn't involve a trap. "You lead. Where are we going?"

"There's an inn not too far from here, it's where I was." In fact, she thinks there might still be a bit of stew waiting for her. "I can promise it's much warmer, given the fire that's been going regularly." She can only imagine how warm that would make someone feel if they've got icy water that's just been doused over them.

"I'm Peggy," she introduces herself, her careful eyes on the woman. "Tell me if you start feeling even colder."

"A fire sounds lovely," Ciri admitted with a slight sigh, trying to shake off at least some of her anxiety. The woman, Peggy, seemed calm enough she could nearly forget the strangeness of the whole affair. Not quite, however.

"I think I'll be fine, once we get indoors." Ciri tried to take in as much of her surroundings as she could of the park and the eerily innocent looking fountain from which she had emerged. "I'm Ciri. Sorry to trouble you like this... I'll admit I am a little lost."

Luckily, the inn isn't too far away. She wonders if that's by design, as well, the inn being so close to the fountain. It had certainly come in handy the first day that she'd arrived, though she still wonders at how the wind could have pushed them all so easily towards it, like it had wanted to be found.

"Don't worry, we're all lost," she says, not meaning to sound so dire, though it comes out that way. "Unfortunately, no one I've met yet has the map to become found."

For once, it was nice not to be the only lost one. Always new places, new people to meet and to leave, and never really knowing where she would end up next. Never like this though, with the eerie confusion leftover from whatever spit her out of that fountain, nothing familiar at hand.

Peggy's words strike her enough to draw out a wry smile. "At least you know where to go," she points out over the squishing of her boots as they walked. "Have you been here very long?"

"Some months," Peggy admits, finding herself utterly trapped as always in both her existence here, but also in having to explain this on a continual basis. "We've all been trapped here, some of us longer than others, is all." She opens the door to the inn once they arrive, regarding the other woman curiously.

"Where do you come from?" she asks, having never seen a shade of hair quite like that before in her life.

"I assume if there were a way out, someone would have found it by now," Ciri postulates, frowning in thought, and in concern. Trapped is not a word she likes hearing. Her mind races as they approach the inn door, and Ciri ducks through it.

The difference in temperature is already notable within seconds and she takes in the main room with its simple and yet unfamiliar decor. She rubs at her wet hair with the blanket, moving toward the fire, and finally feeling warm enough to loosen the covering to do so.

She considers the darker haired, slightly shorter woman at her side as she ponders how to answer her question. "I was born in Cintra, but I've lived many places. My home is at Kaer Morhen, that's where we were headed when I- when I found myself here." Ciri sighs deeply, and worries for Geralt. "It's all very strange. But what about you? Where were you before...here."

"Yes, the same thought has occurred to me," Peggy admits, "We're none of us incapable, so to have so many bright minds and determined spirits still be trapped here does speak to something more nefarious as far as what we should be expecting in terms of the unseen people who keep us here, yet also see fit to bestow us new arrivals and the occasional supplies."

"I'm sorry, none of those names are familiar to me," Peggy says, offering her a slightly lost shrug. "I'm from London myself, originally, but I was living in Los Angeles before here." As she says it, she surprises herself with the fact that she'd just called LA home, when she'd only been deciding to stay.

Perhaps months in this place have given her time to reflect on what makes up home - or rather, who.

She takes Peggy's words to heart, finding she somewhat intuitively trusts the woman the longer they speak. She has, as Uncle Vesemir would say, a good head on her shoulders.

Ciri's far from surprised that Peggy recognizes none of the places she mentioned. It's only ever been occasionally the case that the places she lands are part of her own home world, and in this case, well it would appear that they are all from many worlds. Something Peggy says however, does catch her attention.

"Oh! I've been to London! Granted, not for very long..." It would explain why Peggy's accent sounded familiar to her. Ciri pulled one of the chairs from one of the tables closer to the fire, and dropped the pack she had been given beside it. "It wasn't a very nice place to be at the time, unfortunately, they were dealing with a rather nasty plague."

Well, it's certainly not any contemporary time for Peggy, unless there's been a plague she somehow avoided and ignored. Truthfully, she'd spent a long period of the war being grateful that they hadn't had to deal with anything like the Spanish Flu. "I'm going to now ask what plague, but keep in mind that I'm from 1947," she warns. "And if we're talking about a plague that happens in a future I can influence, I don't think I ought to know any details."

If (when) she gets out of here, she's going to want to not muck up the future. "Unless there's a chance I could somehow change things," she amends. "And help people."

In her travels, Ciri has touched down on so many worlds and places in so many times that it's become much easier for her to pick out details, certain details. She recognizes the electric lights hanging from the ceiling of the inn, though she notices they're not on, but it is a clear indicator whatever time she is in is far beyond where she comes from. She wonders if it is the 1947 Peggy mentions, or some other time entirely.

It also has never escaped her notice that different people count their years in entire different ways.

"I couldn't say for certain, I didn't catch the date while I was there. It's entirely possible it was a wholly other London as well." Her arms cross beneath the blanket as she considers what might be safe to divulge, to help narrow down when the plague occurred.

"When I arrived I was at a port and there were corpses in the streets, and a rather terrible rat infestation according to the locals. Obviously I decided not to stick around but if I were to go by the ships...Perhaps, late-1300's? If our years are at all similar. If they are you would be well past this plague I hope."

Ciri peered thoughtfully into the fire. "Perhaps I should have stayed to help, but I was on the run again, at the time."

"That's quite a bit in my past, then," Peggy admits, given that she can't recall any modern event in history that matches what Cirilla is describing and is rather happy to say so. She's sure that there will be other diseases in the future, but for the moment and after the war, she's happy to pretend that it's not such a large concern.

"On the run," she echoes, eyeing her warily, "what from, exactly?" She knows that she shouldn't jump to conclusions. After all, Peggy was on the run herself for a long while and only because she didn't have the trust of the men she worked with, but at the same time, she's meant to uphold the law. That requires being wary, from time to time.

Ciri can't help but let out a sigh. What wasn't she on the run from? Her entire life, perhaps. Still it is difficult to miss Peggy's concern and Ciri feels she owes her new companion an answer that's a bit more detailed than that. The woman's kindness had for the moment earned Ciri's trust.

She wonders though, where to start. "At the moment, an army of Aen Elle elves called the Wild Hunt. They've been after me for some years now, their leader, Eredin, wants to use my power. What he needs of me would likely kill me, but unfortunately for me he hasn't accepted no for an answer." To put it lightly.

Her gaze shifts to the door of the inn, closed now against the cold. "We planned to face them, just before I landed here. Honestly I don't trust that they might not still appear at any moment." Once again, she felt naked without her sword. "Are there any means of protection here?"

"The strength of the people within the village," Peggy replies to the query about protection. It's not as though they've needed a tribunal or other forms of law, but the truth is that Peggy is wary that it won't last for very long. Eventually, something it going to happen to cause a break in that trust.

Her question hasn't been answered, not really, and now she's only got more. "When you say powers..." She eyes her warily. "What sort do you mean?" she asks, wondering if she's just met the next incarnation of Whitney Frost and hadn't the foggiest idea.

"Hmm," she hums in acknowledgment of Peggy's reply, even if a large part of Ciri is sure that whoever is in this village, and whatever their strength, chances are slim they would be any match for the Wild Hunt. She would have to leave, somehow, if she wanted to keep anyone from harm.

As Peggy presses her for more, Ciri wonders how best to explain, especially to someone she's only just met. It's more than a little embarrassing, the whole thing, and she wishes once again her powers had never manifested, and her heritage was not as it is. How different her life would be then.

"I am what has been called a Source, like my mother and her mother, going back to my elven ancestors. It is why they say I am a child of the Elder Blood. It gives me a natural affinity for the magic of the world, and it allows me to move through time and space at will."

Ciri checks Peggy's expression then, unsure how much further she should go on, something there prompts her to continue. "My ability to control all this magic is unstable at best. To be honest, I've only just learned to travel, and I only sometimes end up where I mean to be. There are times of great peril where I can lose control of my abilities entirely... and it can be very dangerous. Eredin wishes to use my powers to move between worlds. His world, the world of the Aen Elle elves, is being overtaken by the White Frost. Eredin wishes to conquer my own world for them, and use me to transport his armies."

For some reason, the fact that it's a family talent makes her calm slightly. While it might very well end up corrupted and somehow affected, it seems like there are many more steps available to somehow contain this. "Well, lucky for you, there's no one here with any armies for you to move." As to the powers, she remembers how Steve had felt slightly like he'd lost his strength and other abilities and she has to wonder whether that's also impacting Ciri now.

"Can you do it now?" she asks, trying not to be so blunt and direct, though it's what she wants to see. "There have been times that people arrive here and aren't able to do what they were before."

"I suppose that is a mercy," she agrees. The words conjure a weak smile from Ciri, a bit wary perhaps at the idea of thinking she is anywhere that Eredin cannot find her in time. Peggy's question doesn't surprise her, quite used to being a subject of fascination to others. In a few cases her powers are the only reason that some even associate with her. The rest however, does give her pause.

"Do you mean to say this place restrains magic?" she asks somewhat urgently, hesitating a moment before rising to her feet. Now she needs to know. Ciri moves to a spot as uncluttered by tables and chairs as she can find.

"Should this work, I may not return. The Hunt's mages can usually find me by my power, and I will not risk lingering to draw them here," she warns. "And if I do not return, then it was very good to meet you, Peggy."

Dropping the blanket around her to the floor, Ciri plants her feet, and closes her eyes to draw on the magic to summon a portal, aiming for Kaer Morhen. She hopes she can still get home, that Geralt has made it without her, and that there is time to prepare for the battle ahead before the Hunt follows her.

But when she moves into the glow of teal light that envelopes her at the summoning, she does not step out into the courtyard of her home. Instead, Ciri merely disappears and reappears in a flash of this same light standing atop a nearby table, several feet away.

She blinks, and spins to locate Peggy. "That is not at all what I meant to do," she says somewhat forlornly thinking of Avallac'h, that at least his curse has been broken. Perhaps he will survive this, even if Ciri never makes it home to Kaer Morhen.

Peggy stares at her with the due fascination that such a thing has earned. She hadn't really thought the woman would get out, else she would have asked to go with her, even if it was to somewhere else, because it might have given her the opportunity to escape and find her way home from somewhere else. Still, she's also not expecting any sort of visible magic, so to see it is a shock, even if it only displaces her a few feet away. Her eyes are wide with the surprise of it, though she works to get that under control rather quickly.

"It's actually far more than I expected," she says as she strides across the room to her side again, peering up at her and offering a hand to help her climb down. "I thought that any talents, any odd things, they were entirely suppressed." At least, that had been her theory, thanks to Steve, but maybe that's not true of all abilities.

Taking Peggy's offered hand, Ciri hops, light-footed, to the floor. She's not used to the heaviness of her new boots and they slam and creak on the inn's floorboards. Ciri manages to look apologetic about it.

"Well," she begins, pondering what had just happened, and the truth of it. Whatever is here is dampening her powers. "They are suppressed, that's certain. It took a great deal of energy even to do that. It's made me a bit dizzy."

Her admission is followed by a faint wobble as she moves to collect the discarded blanket Peggy had given her, damp now as it had absorbed some of the moisture from her new clothes but still able to offer some warmth. "I suppose I won't be leaving so soon after all. The real question is, can Eredin find me here, wherever here is."

Peggy hardly minds the noise, being rather heavy-footed herself when she's not trying to be sneaky. "Here, sit," Peggy encourages as she moves her towards a chair. She certainly doesn't want to be the reason that a new acquaintance ends up passing out, simply because Peggy drove her onwards to put on a display of her powers that wound up rather less than expected.

"Eredin, this person, would they be able to get out more than just you?" she asks, tucking the blanket around Ciri with brusque expedience.

Ciri doesn’t argue, letting herself be bundled expertly in a way that hinted this wasn’t Peggy’s first time taking care of someone, in the same way she seems familiar, comfortable even, with the impossible being possible. For a moment, just a moment, Ciri thinks of Yennefer and her comforting efficiency at getting to the heart of a matter. She would probably like Peggy very much.

“It depends, I suppose, on whether or not the Hunt are affected by the same… whatever this is that is muffling my own powers. Eredin’s mages are able to accomplish quite a bit but they are somewhat limited, more so than I am… at my worst. I can’t imagine he would be motivated to get anyone out. More likely they would kill everyone in the village who didn’t run fast enough or hide well enough, whether I gave myself up or not.” And she would, if it came to that. Ciri so hated the reality of always putting others at risk of a brutal end.

"Well, in that case, I like to think he'll be very surprised if he comes here intending to kill a great many people, because we're not the sort to simply give up," she insists with a stubborn gleam in her eye. "Maybe it's better that he doesn't come here and we determine a way out on our own, then," she suggests, even if she's not having much luck in that department, lately.

"Do you want a glass of water?" Peggy offers. "Something to drink?"

"Indeed," Ciri agrees at once. "Whatever is happening here, I should hope there is a solution that does not involve Eredin."

Concern flickers still in her gaze and wrinkles her brow. She's never met anyone who could suppress her powers, not even the witches of the bog together had been able to stop her really. She doubts whatever this is, it will be easy to solve. "Whoever you all are, I hope you're the sort who doesn't give up."

"Hm? Ah- yes I suppose I ought to. Is the water here safe?" That was the sort of mistake one only made once.

Peggy knows that she's a stranger to Ciri, but the comment regarding her stubbornness gets a smirk given that Peggy is tenacious and determined to a degree that most people wish that she weren't. "It's quite safe," she agrees. "I don't know if you had any injuries or physical issues prior to your arriving, but the water seems to have its own beneficial properties," she admits.

"Healing water," she says, with the tone of voice of someone who doesn't quite believe in it, despite the fact that it had also healed her, upon arrival.

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Blown in on an icy wind

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