Alex "Cub" Rider (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
00nothing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2016-12-12 01:27 am
00nothing) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2016-12-12 01:27 am
'cause when the sun sets, it upsets what's left of my invested interest
WHO: Alex Rider
WHERE: The fountain
WHEN: 12/12
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: slight deep water phobia, reference violence maybe?
STATUS: Open
WHERE: The fountain
WHEN: 12/12
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: slight deep water phobia, reference violence maybe?
STATUS: Open
Alex opens his eyes to the all too familiar sensation of drowning in deep water and tries very hard not to panic. This shouldn't be happening. He should be home and safe in Chelsea, or at the very least drowsing wearily on the plane flight back to London, not... not this again. His chest feels tight, and it has nothing to do with needing to breathe.
This isn't fair, he thinks viciously, and his eyes burn. He never asked for any of this and he doesn't want to do this anymore.
Frigid water presses down all around him and Alex squeezes his eyes shut, his hands into fists until his nails cut into his palms. When he opens his eyes again his heart is beating loudly in his ears, but he's clear headed enough to look around and get a fix on the way out. And then he's swimming, long, powerful, slightly desperate strokes to the surface. He's gasping for breath as soon as he clears the water and flinging himself over the edge of the fountain before he even takes a moment to register his surroundings.
Of course, then he does, dragging himself up into a seated position, leaning back on his hands and giving the fountain in front of him a wide, wild eyed look. "What?" Who on Earth was going around leaving him in fountains, of all places? That was hardly an effective way to try and kill someone.
They hadn't even put a shark in there with him or something.
He shrugs the weight of a bag from his shoulders when he registers the pressure, and then pauses in analyzing the contents of the bag when he realizes that the shrug hadn't hurt like it should, no burnt skin pulling uncomfortably tight. With slowly dawning disbelief, Alex reaches up with one hand to press to his shoulders, and feels only the slightly upraised pale pink skin of a new scar.
"What." He says, once more with feeling.
This isn't fair, he thinks viciously, and his eyes burn. He never asked for any of this and he doesn't want to do this anymore.
Frigid water presses down all around him and Alex squeezes his eyes shut, his hands into fists until his nails cut into his palms. When he opens his eyes again his heart is beating loudly in his ears, but he's clear headed enough to look around and get a fix on the way out. And then he's swimming, long, powerful, slightly desperate strokes to the surface. He's gasping for breath as soon as he clears the water and flinging himself over the edge of the fountain before he even takes a moment to register his surroundings.
Of course, then he does, dragging himself up into a seated position, leaning back on his hands and giving the fountain in front of him a wide, wild eyed look. "What?" Who on Earth was going around leaving him in fountains, of all places? That was hardly an effective way to try and kill someone.
They hadn't even put a shark in there with him or something.
He shrugs the weight of a bag from his shoulders when he registers the pressure, and then pauses in analyzing the contents of the bag when he realizes that the shrug hadn't hurt like it should, no burnt skin pulling uncomfortably tight. With slowly dawning disbelief, Alex reaches up with one hand to press to his shoulders, and feels only the slightly upraised pale pink skin of a new scar.
"What." He says, once more with feeling.
no subject
One question is too many even, and if Alex never has to talk about any of this it will still be too soon.
He picks up his pace a bit at the man's comment about their destination, drawing up even with Credence but a step behind to let him lead. The coat is helping a bit, but he'll be happy to be out of this weather regardless. And hopefully a bit closer to some answers as well. "Miss Kelly?" Alex asks, instantly wary until he forces himself to take a breath to ease the tension from his body, shaking his head like he's shaking it off.
If only it was that easy.
"Sorry, I should have asked before, but, ah. Where exactly are we?" And most importantly, perhaps... "Why am I here?" At the very least, he needs to figure out if this is MI6's doing or SCORPIA's.
no subject
When he walks, it's his usual gait--clipped and small, curling in on himself, even if his words don't quite match the posture.
"I don't know," he confesses, and which question he's asking is unclear. "The truth is, I haven't been here for very long, but others--like Miss Kelly, she runs the inn--they've been here so long they've set up a settlement."
He wonders if that's a terrifying or daunting thing to hear to the boy with the scar.
no subject
Credence's gait makes it easy enough to keep pace without putting too much thought into it, and Alex takes advantage of that in order to think, staring vaguely ahead of them and mouth turned down. His fingers play idly with the strap of his waterproof bag, silent for a moment before turning to his guide again.
"And what happens here? After people pull themselves out of the fountain, I mean. Does anyone know--" Alex's breath catches. Anxiously, his fingers tighten against the strap and he stops short abruptly, glaring down at the ground until he can get his breathing evened out again.
(He's so tired, normally he at least gets a couple weeks between missions to recover, he's not sure he has it in him to do this again so soon...)
All told it takes him roughly 30 seconds, but that's 30 seconds he can't really afford in an unknown place like this, and he's sighing heavily before he's raising his head again, looking faintly embarrassed. "Sorry, you said you haven't bee here for long, right? But have you noticed... aside from leaving us here in the first place, what have our captors done?"
There should be more immediate dangers than simply the possibility of drowning or frostbite, shouldn't there? What were they planning?
no subject
Instead, he shrugs and pretends to think for a moment. Pretends not to dwell on the fact that he might be the one causing all of this in the first place--because that's not entirely possible, he tells himself.
"The others say they do things. Leave us gifts, or even put entire places here, like the hot springs. All I know definitely is that we're being watched."
It's nothing he's unused to, and his voice is steady as he talks: "we're being watched all the time."
no subject
People always have a reason, and more often than not it's a selfish one. Alex learned to distrust altruism when he was fourteen.
Being watched, on the other hand, doesn't surprise him in the slightest. He would have assumed as much whether Credence had told him or not. The trick was in figuring out how extensive the coverage was, in testing the limits, and truth be told? He was leery of doing that when he didn't know what sort of expectations his observers had regarding his behavior. Stepping out of a prescribed box too early could ruin everything if he wasn't careful.
But ruin what? And for who?
"That... doesn't sound terribly reassuring." Alex murmurs lightly in a classic example of British understatement, for the lack of anything better to say. It's times like these he really wishes he had a better understanding of how another boy his age might react to a situation like this. Would he cry? Yell? Alex honestly doesn't know if he would even have it in him to try.
no subject
He walks in silence for a few moments after that, a few beats before he decides he should probably say something that isn't an apology. People, he's learned, don't like when everything ends in an awkward silence. Even if that's all Credence is used to, too.
He clears his throat.
"What's your name?"
no subject
He's not terribly uncomfortable with the silence that follows though, it gives him time to think about what he knows. Not a whole lot at the moment, unfortunately. And he's not entirely sure what he can do to change that, or if he even wants to try.
His tangled thoughts are interrupted by Credence clearing his throat, and Alex can't help but be grateful for it, really, enough that the smile he offers Credence when he answers is almost entirely honest. "Alex." He says mildly. "It's nice to meet you, even under the circumstances."
no subject
That won't do. It's an embarrassment to them both.
"The village has been--um.." the word great is something he doesn't want to say. "--it's been helpful with meeting new people." There's that positive twist he's trying so desperately to find.
"I don't think I'd have any reason to talk to someone British like you, otherwise."
no subject
He doesn't mention any of this to Credence, of course, he's clearly trying, and Alex doesn't want to be the one to discourage him.
Walking isn't honestly something that Alex has ever put much thought to, aside from those instances in which he was trying to play up his age for unsuspecting adults. But it's something he's certainly thinking about now.
Alex can't exactly share Credence's contentment in meeting new people, mostly because these days whenever he meets someone new they almost always wind up trying to kill him sooner or later. But it doesn't take a genius to look at Credence and not come up with at least a few ideas as to why that sort of thing might appeal to him (the former, not the latter, anyway).
"I suppose you didn't travel much, then?"