sixthiterationlogs | (no subject)

WHO: Margaery Tyrell
WHERE: The Fountain
WHEN: July 21st
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Open

There had been green before her eyes and the rumble of the ground beneath her feet. A sudden roar and then it all disappeared, replaced by the sound of splashing and swirling water before her eyes. Margaery sputtered, liquid filling her eyes, nose and mouth, pulling her down into the depths as she struggled to understand what was happening and where she was.

Pressure grew in her chest, reminding her that she didn't have time to rest in a delirium. She needed air and needed to fight to the surface for it. Kicking and struggling, she swam fiercely, channeling all of her confusion and fear into her movements. It wasn't long before the light she chased was in reach and the surface surrounded her. She took a sharp ragged breath, scanning around her environment, on edge and waiting for more danger. Her limbs trembled, shock deeply rooted in her.

Slowly, she pulled herself from the fountain (was a fountain really so deep?) and fell against the ground. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her heartbeat returning to normal. She sputtered, spitting out the excess water that had found itself into her mouth.

That was done. She had survived, but where had she landed? What place was this and what waited for her? What nightmare had she woken to?

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Ren still wasn't convinced the fountain was a dead end. They arrived within its depths, and he had observed, from a distance, others doing the same. Always with a pack and always wearing the same style of soaked clothing, albeit in different colors.

It was only by chance that he had chosen that day to sit near the fountain. There was nothing predictable or regular about the timing of people sputtering and flailing their way out of its waters. Ren was not there to save anyone, or to ease them into their new home. He didn't care who showed up or what they did with themselves. He only cared about finding a way out and off this planet.

He had taken several swims in the fountain in the past couple weeks. He still had no idea how people were dropped in or released from the fountain, only that it seemed to be the only place they came from.

When Margarey sputtered her way to the surface, Ren took his boots and coat off and dove in to the side of her. He left her to keep sputtering on the ground, diving as deep as he could before his lungs demanded he resurface.

When he did, he sat back down on the edge of the fountain, drenched once again and just as frustrated as he had been every other time. The fountain kept seeming like a dead end, but he had yet to give up.

He looked down at the woman on the ground after a moment and then moved to pick his coat back up, pulling it on again over his dripping clothes. There are only a few things that would make her useful to him, and he shows no empathy when he stands in front of her.

"How did you end up in the fountain?"

His lack of concern or help earned him an eye roll and a cold look of disdain. The awakening she had, as well as the rather frightful entrance hadn't helped her suffer through the rudeness of others. She was dead and this place was unfamiliar to her. It was unnecessary for her to pull up her courtly mask and resume an air of sweetness and innocence.

She was in no mood for any of it. As she struggled to regain her composure and spit out the last of the water, she watched as he pulled on his jacket. His earlier behavior peculiar, but not difficult to understand. He was looking for a way out, but the frustration on his features answered any questions she might have.

There was no way out. It was a one way trip, no portal or door to lead back to her world.

Margaery sighed, laying back against the ground as she stared up at the sky. She would need a moment before she could move again. The sun, at least, might dry her. "If I knew the answer, I should be using that means to return home. I simply woke underwater."

Useless. She had no more information than anyone else. He could not fault her for that, but he was frustrated all the same. He was dripping from his dive, his coat slowly dampening from the clothing underneath. There was no call for it in the weather they had, but Ren was used to wearing more clothing in all temperatures and weather. He crouched down after a moment, not willing to sit and let down his guard, but lowering himself closer to her level while they were still speaking.

"Where where you before? What system?" He missed the mask, if only for the ease that came with it as opposed to forcibly masking his emotions in public. He was angry, but only mild irritation showed on his face.

She pulled the pack from her back and rested her head on it as she lay out on the ground, seeking any warmth from the sky. There was only the breeze, leaving her trembling and cold. Finally, she raised herself up, pulling her knees to her chest as he knelt to address her.

It was like she was in the Sept again, a prisoner in the cell and being interrogated by one of the Sparrows. There was no kindness in his features, only a quiet intensity that disturbed her, though she was careful not to let it show.

He was young, but that did not stop the ominous feeling she got whenever she looked at him. "I was in King's Landing at the Sept of Baelor the Blessed. We were waiting for the trial of the Queen Mother to commence." It wasn't what he was looking for, but she had no other answer to give.

The scar across his face did little to reassure most people of any kind of kindness. Ren worked hard to keep his expressions masked when it was possible to do so. He watched her intently, despite how unhelpful he found her answer. King's Landing, Sept, Baelor of the Blessed. Nothing she said was familiar to him and he couldn't help the slight frustrated breath that escaped him at her answer.

"I assume one of those is the name of a city. King's Landing?" The rest sounded like rulers or faith, both of which he intended to offer a solution to in the future. His future and the future of the galaxy. But that was beyond his reach for now.

"What is the most advanced form of travel your people have mastered?"

She was used to masked expressions and guarded personalities. Having lived among so much scheming and duplicity, it wasn't a shock or unnerving to be around someone that seemed to do so as easily as she did. While his hostility was a bit disturbing, she didn't begrudge him whatever he was feeling. After her arrival, it was hard not to have similar emotions.

"Yes, King's Landing. It's a city." He didn't know her world, and strangely, she didn't expect him to. This place seemed far removed from Westeros.

The question earned a frown. What else was there beyond horses or carriages? "The same as all others. Horses and horse drawn carriages."