sixthiterationlogs | 0I Waterlogged [OPEN]

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0I Waterlogged [OPEN]

WHO: Moana
WHERE: Fountain/Docks/Around
WHEN: December 27th
OPEN TO: ALL ARE WELCOME!
WARNINGS: Mentions of almost drowning…
STATUS: Closed

Prompt i – le mea e te

The waves crashed hard against her torso as the horizon spun and tumbled away. Something grabbed onto her foot and a violent pull jolted through her as another wave trapped her below the surface of the water. Her lungs burned while her fingers blindly groped the lagoon floor. Needles prickled against her senses and her vision began to falter and fade.

This is what she got for trying to pass the barrier reef.

Cold fire filled her lungs and her eyes snapped opened to find a large blackness surrounding her. This water was calmer and colder than what she'd experienced a moment before. She felt fabric constrict across her shoulders and then something new tethered around her feet. She didn’t have time to stop and consider these changes. She kicked at the water moving towards the light above her and the promise of air. She gasped as she broke the surface of the fountain, her fingers clawing at the cement rim before pulling herself up, over and onto the hard cold ground. She pulled off her scrub, the pack, her boots and her socks; feeling their weight press uncomfortably against her. She coughed and gasped, her dark brown eyes blinking away the stars and tears that filled her vision.

Her sight blurred and it took Moana a moment to focus on what was around her. The air was frigid, biting and gnawing uncomfortably at her wet skin. Her boots, pack and navy blue over shirt were tossed messily to her right side. She wasn't on her island anymore and the more she asked herself how she got here the more she drew a defined blank.

"Pua? Pua are you here? Are you okay?" Her voice was frantic as she looked around the base of the fountain. Her pet pig had been in the boat with her and she'd hoped that he'd somehow made it back to shore.

She was in so much trouble.

Prompt ii – Iloa mamao atu

She'd pushed the extra clothes and shoes into the pack. She wasn't used to wearing shoes and despite the fact that the ground was freezing she felt more comfortable without them on. Moana shrugged the pack over her shoulders before ringing out her thick black hair. Water pooled onto the sidewalk as she began to make her way through the small town. She had gotten general information from those she's spoken too but it was hard to believe. The gods wouldn't punish her like this, would they? Is this what happened when people tried to leave the reef? All of her questions felt very silly.

"What do I do now?" She asked no one in particular, her dark eyes moving over the small town. Wandering around helped her a bit but it felt too directionless.

She paused after passing a few buildings and looked up towards the sky in amazement. The snow on the ground had melted away and yet small little white fluffs were falling from the overcast above her. Moana held out her hand and then shivered as the cold ice melted on her skin.

"What is this?" Moana had been born on a tropical island; she'd never seen snow before.

Prompt iii – Na i le punou vaitafe

She had been told there wasn't an ocean and yet she couldn't really believe that. The ocean connected everything; she had to be able to find it. She ended up at the boathouse, her gaze peering around the building and the boats lined up on the docks.

"All rivers go to the ocean right?" Moana began to talk to herself, keeping her tone calm and yet curious. "I've never seen a canoe like this." She paused looking at the small boat that floated next to the dock. She knew how the village canoes were designed and built but she had no idea how something like these boats were built.

"Hello?"

She called, this time louder, wondering if someone might hear her. There was a feeling inside of her, something tugging her towards the rolling currents of the river.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Legal enough for Peggy, who just wanted to make sure she wasn't about to serve something highly alcoholic to someone who wasn't even sixteen yet. The girl looked young, but Peggy supposes that could be due to any number of factors, including good care and lucky genetics. She rifles through the bottles that have been set up on the table for the guests, thinking it rather fitting that someone has arrived on the very day of her party. It's as if this village is trying to make sure they don't forget the strange nature of everyone's arrivals. She reaches into one of the gift boxes and hauls out the heavy blanket she'd been gifted, gesturing for the girl to sit. "I'm Peggy Carter," she says. "I'm not usually this organized and my home isn't usually so nice, but I'm about to have an event."

"You're invited, of course, if you're feeling up to it!" She returns with just a finger of sherry in a glass, offering it out to the girl. "I'm sure someone else would have come along. There's roughly fifty of us here, and many people regularly come by the fountain, just in case of a new arrival."

Living so close to the beach and the ocean has done wonders for Moana's skin. Most of those in her village looked a little younger than they were, except for her grandmother who was the self proclaimed village crazy lady.

"I'm Moana." Did she already say that? Everything was blurring together. "Ah, thank you." She took the blanket and took a seat where she was directed. Her toes curled against the floor while small droplets of water pooled beneath her. "I hope I don't make a mess." This house was a lot nicer than what she was used to. It didn't have dirt floor or thatched roof, it looked like it was build with wood with squares instead of clay. "Fifty?" That sounded like a lot but then Moana's base of comparison was her home which didn't have that many people on it.

"What event?" There weren't many holidays on her island.

"Don't worry, I've never minded a warped floor," Peggy says, given that she's hardly a homemaker or keeper of a fine home, seeing as she's barely managed to keep herself at the Griffith and Miriam Fry had maintained their flats with her ordered, pristine hand. "As to the event, it's a bit selfish. We received a great number of gifts all of a sudden last week, so I suppose it's a sort of Christmas, but at the same time, it's a good excuse for me to get rid of some of the alcohol and to wear a lovely dress."

If she happened to get a chance to dance to the record she'd received, well, then, more the better for her. "Fifty, I think. It could be more or less, I don't think we really do roll call each morning."

Moana had so many questions and comments running through her head. She quieted them, doing as her father taught her and handling one thing at a time. She exhaled and then took a small sip of the liquid that Peggy handed her. It caught her by surprise and she coughed before regaining her composure. She sat with her back straight and her head up, another trait that she'd learned from her father.

"That tastes interesting." Definitely the first time she's tried that but as the alcohol seeps into her stomach she feels her body begin to warm from the inside out. She took another small sip, this time being careful and nodded. "I bet you'd look lovely in a dress. I miss my dress." She'd always had one.

"I'm also not sure what Chris-t-mas is." The word sounded awkward when she said it but she was trying. She knew about parties though the ones that she knew were usually outside, with the whole village gathered around a large fire. There were drums and dancing and it was always a lot of fun. Plus it was then that she could usually sneak away to the ocean.

Peggy doesn't mean to, but she has to hide her smile behind her hand at the girl's reaction to the sherry. It's not a particularly offensive alcohol, but neither is it the sort that you have in any other situation. Right now, with her cold and probably needing to be pulled away from a touch of shock, it's probably the best choice, if not the mildest going down. "Thank you," she says calmly, "I've only the one and I've yet to try it on, so I'll have to hope that I look good in it, otherwise I've thrown a whole party and I'll have to look like a slob during it."

"Christmas is a holiday in late December, commemorating the birth of the Christian saviour. At least, that's supposedly what it is, but truthfully, people have adapted it with their own traditions so they can have meals and a tree in the home and presents for everyone. "It's a holiday, really. It gives people a reason to come together."

Moana continued to sip the drink, it wasn't something that she could drink quickly but given she hadn't eaten lunch before arriving here it was going a bit to her head. She felt the numbness and warmth spread through her and found out that she had absolutely no alcohol tolerance at all.

"If it is to big I can bring it in for you. Assuming this place has needles and thread." There were so many weird things here that Moana really didn't know what they had.

Moana nodded at her explanation. "That makes sense, more so if it's always cold around this holiday. I think everyone would need to be cheered up." She really did not like the cold and while she was warm now, she knew that she'd eventually have to go back out into the cold.

"I think someone might have them available," Peggy admits, though it wouldn't be her. While she can do a quick stitch job, she's no Ana Jarvis when it comes to mending items, and she's ready to admit such weaknesses, knowing that she spent her time getting dirty and rough, more so than most of the other children she knew.

"Hopefully, my little party will help to do the trick," she says, glancing at the area around her. "It's a big house for just me. I think this will be the last hurrah, really."

Moana looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding her head. "If we find something I can help." She wasn't as skilled as others on her island but Moana had helped everyone with pretty much everything and that included sewing. Her father had wanted her to understand every aspect of their lives on the island. It was nice to know it did her some good now.

"Do you live here alone?" It did seem big. "If you do why not have people over more often? Then it wouldn't feel so big."

Moana took another sip of her drink before finishing the small sniffer and placing it on a table to the side. She felt as if she should do something but the fire here was warm and she felt it thawing her feet and drying her thick dark hair.

"I didn't used to live here alone," Peggy replies, settling down in the chair opposite Moana. She'll need to start getting dressed at some point soon, but it won't take her very long, not now that her hair is already done. "The man that was here, my friend, he vanished. He's come back, but not with the same memories and it would impose far too much to ask him to live here."

"I think, maybe, I'll move to the inn. There's quite a few people there," she says encouragingly. "It will be nice to have people around again, but the privacy will be something I miss," she does confess.

Moana watched Peggy as she took the seat opposite her. She was listening intently though her toes began to wiggle as they began to thaw. It felt nice to warm through and Moana slowly began to feel more like herself. She knew that she'd have to get used to the cold while she was here but she was silently hoping that it wasn't that long.

"That sounds complicated." She was honest, a thoughtful frown tugging at her lips. "I'm not used to having to much privacy. My island didn't have walls, ceilings or floors like these." Moana would probably stay at the inn too. "If not the man that used to live here, why not someone else? Only if you want to stay of course." She added the last sentence quickly. "I'm sure you have a lot of friends here and everyone has to stick together, right?"

Even if it was a hard choice for Peggy. Moana thought that the woman should do what made her feel the most comfortable and the happiest.

"It's a complicated situation," Peggy says, but perhaps she ought to be thinking about living with someone who isn't part of her past or her future. "Your island, it sounds different from anywhere else I've ever heard about, perhaps you'd like to tell me more." She rises to refill the girl's glass, but only with a slight splash of liquid again, not wanting to offer too much.

"I think most things that get called situations are complicated." She offered Peggy a smile that she hoped looked confident. Moana had always tried to appear confident around others.

"Oh thank you and yes, I'd love to tell you more about it. I love my island." Peggy will notice that the more Moana talked about her island the more animated and happy she looked. "It's never this cold but we do have storms that come in from the ocean. There are coconut grooves, and the village is only two handfuls of buildings or so but they're all sturdy and made out of clay while the ceilings are made from wrapped palm branches. It keeps out the rain water when the wind doesn't accidentally shift them. We have farm animals too and I have two pets. Pau was one of them and Heihei is the other. I had a lot to learn from my father about the island so I know all the parts. My favorite was the ocean. I could always see it beyond the reef..." Her smile falters slightly.

"-but I don't know how to sail." She didn't know properly and it upset her more than she wanted to admit. Her father would be upset to know she'd tried to cross the reef and now she couldn't even see him or her island. "I wish I could show you. It really is an amazing place."

It sounds a little like those tropical islands that had been so pristine and untouched in the days before the war in the Pacific. Peggy had been lucky enough to have never been deployed to the Pacific, instead her assignment had kept her in the European theatre, far away from that disaster. "It sounds lovely," she shares. "I've never sailed myself, is it hard to learn?"

"And besides, I feel as if you've begun to tell me about it just with your description," Peggy promises, given that she knows the power of words at times, with their ability to paint a picture and be so vivid in their description.

Moana shook her head. "I don't know since I've never tried but I think I'll be able to get it." She messed up before she had arrived here but that didn't mean that Moana was ready to give up, nope, she was just going to try harder than last time. She'll keep trying until she gets it though she had no idea what her father's reaction would be. She only knew that he hated the idea of her running off to the ocean.

A smile touched her lips while her fingers reached out towards her drink. She took a small sip before nodding her head. "My grandmother was very good at telling stories and legends. I must have gotten that from her."

Peggy feels bad that there's no ocean around and that the only sailing that anyone will really be able to do is likely in a little paper boat on the river. "I've never really had anyone in my family that was a big talker. We were very big of long, comfortable silences." The sort that always faded into being more uncomfortable than anything else.

"When I arrived here, it was warmer. Not the sort of warm that you think of when you think of the tropics, but still a shade better than this. Perhaps you'll get to try ice skating?"

Moana was still planning to learn how to sail. Even if it was just on the lake it'd be able to teach her what it was like out there in the water. It wasn't perfect but it was a small taste of the freedom that she desired.

Her smile widened a bit. "My grandmother is an amazing person. She taught me everything I know about Maui and the gods. She also taught me about the ocean." Moana's fingers rose to her lips as a wistful expression spread over her features. "She used to say that she was the village crazy lady. I guess when my father took over she didn't have to do anything so she always just did what she wanted. I always looked up to her." There were times that Moana felt like she had more in common with her grandmother than she did her father or mother.

"What's ice skating?" It sounded interesting and possibly difficult.

There were times when Peggy had thought that she might become the crazy lady if she continued down a path of pursuing what she did, with only a mind and an eye for her career. Lately, she hadn't been feeling like that as much, thanks to her friendships and the burgeoning 'something else' with Daniel, but there had been moments. "Ice skating, it's essentially placing sharp blades on your feet and using them to navigate the ice," she says, thinking of the small ponds she'd skated on and how that hadn't even compared to Rockefeller in New York, once she'd moved there.

Though, apart from the lady in the lake case, LA didn't really offer much in the way of winter sports. "If you have some rather sharp blades, we could do it here, but I'd hesitate to strap knives to your shoes."

Moana thought that her Grandmother was amazing. Yes, she was a little odd but she was wise and she loved the island and the ocean just as much as Moana did. She'd learned so much from her Grandmother.

"Sharp blades? What if we used something like reed or fish bones? It just has to hold our weight and have a thin in?" She went through the materials that she knew and what might be strong enough to do that. Wood would be the best choice but that involved tools that Moana just didn't have.

"It sounds like it'd be something fun to try."

"I don't actually know," Peggy says, which is an odd thing to be thinking about. Skating on fish bones certainly sounds odd, but in this place, perhaps they'd just be enchanted fish bones. She's stopped thinking that anything is impossible, honestly.

"We could always just skate and slide with our boots," she says. "With a slick enough surface, we're bound to go somewhere quickly. There are plenty of other winter activities, too. Sledding and such."

She took another small sip of her drink and listened. She was starting to feel warmer and she couldn't fight the smile that pulled at her lips as they spoke. It was a surprisingly normal conversation and she felt as if she was learning a lot.

Moana didn't like shoes but she'd give it a try. She was hard press to dismiss things simply because she wasn't familiar with them. Everything was created and thought of for a reason. "Is sledding on ice too?" She knew the word but given the context Moana felt as if Peggy was talking about something else.

"On a ridiculous amount of snow," she says, because her memories of tobogganing and sledding had been on massive piles of snow that could eat you up and cushion your landing, should it be a messy one. "It doesn't take much, though, just a board or two to sit yourself on and a large hill." Or a small one, to start off with.

The trouble is, the more danger and trouble you seek out, the more you start wanting that sort of rush.

Moana glanced out one of the windows. "I think we have that." She then turned to Peggy with a smile, trying to stop the soft laugh from escaping her lips. There was a lot of snow outside, being in short supply of it now felt a little bit silly.

"Are there hills around here?" She hadn't really taken a long look around.

"No, actually," Peggy admits, given that the most they have are sharp sloping canyon walls that are far too steep to do anything on. "I suppose that it's not really any sort of traditional winterscape around here," she admits ruefully.

"Though, most of our time is spent surviving, anyhow, so it's hardly like I have much time to think of skating or sledding down hills."

Moana took a moment to think about Peggy's phrasing. It sounded like the idea of survival was a newer concept to her while it's something that Moana had been faced with all her life; for the villages survival. "Well, yeah but you can't just survive. You have to live or you'll lose an important part of yourself. Even work can be fun, if you look at it in the right light."

At least, that's what she thought.

"I was never much of a fun person, at home," Peggy admits, which isn't hard to say, but it's not a very popular thing to admit. "I hadn't taken any vacation and even the vacation I did take was to work more. My life was my job," she says, "and I was so good at it," she promises, feeling like she can boast just a little to Moana.

"Unfortunately, there's no real job here but surviving. Then again, I suppose I'm doing well by it, as I'm still here."

0I Waterlogged [OPEN]

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