sixthiterationlogs | It Comes Crashing Down

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It Comes Crashing Down

WHO: Margaery Tyrell
WHERE: Bungalows #58, #4
WHEN: Feb 12th
OPEN TO: Logan, All
WARNINGS: Injuries, the fallout from being struck by lightening
STATUS: Open during the aftermath

I. [Closed to Logan]

Despite the danger of the lightening storm, there were some things that required Margaery to venture from her home. She was careful to keep the animals indoors, but needed to feed them and look after her pregnant cow. It was only after ensuring that her animals were safe that she returned home to weave and sew. She could at least do these chores safely inside. The growing number of injuries and damage to homes had made her wary, enough that she took care with what would pull her outside.

Seeing Logan was likely unwise, but she had wanted to make a gift of a blanket to him. Her weaving had improved and she had hoped to show him her latest creation. It was a flimsy reason to visit him, but one that encouraged her to step outside.

As she neared Bungalow 58, she could feel a tension appear in the air. There was a buzzing against her ear, a small crackle that disturbed the otherwise quiet day. Her body felt as though it were tingling, her hair suddenly standing on end. She hurried her steps, feeling her heart skip a beat. His steps were so near, only a few feet away. But before she could reach safety, there was a sudden CRACK and she collapsed to the ground. Her body felt as though it were on fire, sending her back to the moment that the Sept had erupted in a green light. Sound disappeared; she knew that she had screamed but couldn't hear herself. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest, leaving her struggling for breath.

There was someone beside her but she couldn't see, only a vague outline of a figure.

II. [Open]

She had been seen and received treatment. While the injuries were minor, her mind still whirred, raising anxiety in her. The burns hadn't been severe, but they left her trembling and afraid. She kept her mind from drifting back to Westeros, focused on every small detail of her room. The feel of her mattress beneath her, the cold in the air and the sound of the bungalow settling.

It took a great deal for her to remain in bed. Gilbert rested at her side, his soft fur a sweet balm to her burned skin. Finally her heart had settled in her chest and she could breathe once more. Her eyes trailed over her room, bored and restless.

She wouldn't remain in bed for long, not if she had her way.

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Cougar's seen a lot of strange injuries. Usually, though, he sees mostly bullet wounds or shrapnel from explosives, but he's seen all ranges of it. When he hears that Margaery had been hit with lightning, he goes, because he still remembers hearing that Ren had died from it. He might only be a field medic when needed, but he wants to make sure that the people he cares about are tended to.

He comes, not empty handed, with some of the sweets from the box. It's only a couple of lollipops, but still, as he settles down beside her bed, he offers one to her. "Best medicine," he says jokingly.

Logan wasn't near the window when it happened, but from the couch in the livingroom the bright light pulled his attention to it, just as it had happened when he realised Sansa had been hit.

Immediately he got up and instead of look out the window, Logan went straight for the door. As soon as the form of someone on the ground was seen, he wasted no time moving to her side. Eyes widened when he realised who it was.

"Margaery," Logan said, fingers sliding across to the pulse point in her neck. "Margaery, can you hear me?"

"What is it?" She asked, taking the lollipop and inspecting it curiously. Chocolate had been a wonderful surprise for her, awakening a craving that she didn't know existed in her before. She was nearly finished with her sweets, but had managed to ration them off to last longer.

The lollipop looked as sweet as the chocolate.

Even without the treat, she was pleased to receive a visitor. "I was told that I look worse than I really am. Only a few minor burns."

Her ears were ringing, but she was at least awake and conscious. After a few frightening seconds, she was able to make out Logan at her side. His fingers pressed to the side of her neck, causing her to wince in pain as he brushed over a burn. Her pulse was erratic, fluttering inside her chest.

"Logan?" She couldn't hear him. Rubbing her ears, she looked around, dazed and woozy. The world was muted and hazy and, for some reason, she couldn't remember why she was on the ground or burned.

There was a blanket beside her, the edges singed and smelling like burnt wool. "I...I was bringing you this."

The ongoing lightning strikes are making Nerys more than a little wary about going out of the house--and hells, equally wary about staying in the house, when she hears a few more stories. But the Inn has more food than what she can scavenge and keep around the bungalow, and it's cooked better too. Nerys had forgotten, living on DS9, that she has a tendency to draw in on herself, in winter. It was always a horrible time of further privation in the camp, and that continues to color her opinion to this day.

She's horrified, though, to hear that Margaery's also been hit by lightning; it leaves her at a loss for a long hour or two, uncertain what she can do about the situation. Going to the room she's using as a cold cupboard, she finds the cauldron of chocolate that she and Veronica had pilfered months ago, frozen solid. Letting a few pieces thaw, she puts them into a small bowl and wraps them in paper, then heads over to the bungalow where Margaery stays.

Knocking softly, she calls out, "Hello, Margaery? Can I come in? You don't need to get up or anything."

"Sweets, for a sweet woman," is Cougar's even reply, and though he doesn't smile or offer her any overt kindness, there's a warmth and worry in his eyes that says how much he'd worried when he'd heard about another lightning strike. He settles in the chair beside the bed, resting one booted foot on the wall nearby. "Who looked at you?" he asks with a lift of his chin.

He trusts the others, here, but wants to make sure he knows who it is, in case he needs to go ask more questions later.

"If you are not careful, you will make my head spin more than it is." She grinned, touched by the gesture and the compliment. Cougar had always been kind to her, even through his seriousness. She hadn't expected his visit, but was grateful to see him. Being stuck in bed was far from pleasant.

"One of the physicians." It at least wasn't someone with basic first aid. "The same that have been looking after everyone unfortunate to be hit by the storm." She met his eyes in concern. "What do you think is causing this?"

"Nerys!" There is obvious relief and excitement in her voice. Having to be stuck in bed was beyond tedious, even though she felt the effects of the burns still and suffered from dizziness. The injuries were mild, but Claire took no chances. Margaery was to convalesce until she could stand on her feet without nearly toppling over.

The quiet had been grating at first, but after living alone, she had become adapted to it. Now, it was simply the having nothing to do. Only when someone visited did she feel actual relief and excitement. It was far better than staring at the wall, as she had been.

"Come in! Please! How are you?" She is desperate for conversation.

Cougar can't help the smug look on his face, because he knows that he's picked Jake and he's happy with him, but sometimes it's good to stretch out the charm and see that he could still hook others, if he wanted. He settles in a little, relaxing when she tells him of a visit from the physicians.

"I don't know," he admits, because it's honest. Lightning strikes happen all the time, but they're grounded in things. This is like it's seeking out people, like it's testing them. Why do some survive? Why did the one die? "Maybe it's a test, too." Like everything else, but a test for what? He doesn't know.

Nerys takes the pleasure in the sound of her name as welcome, and enters the bungalow even before Margaery can finish up 'come in'. It's chilly outside, and damp, and so the indoors are welcome even if nearly everywhere outside the inn is too cold for her personal tastes right now. Winter and Nerys don't get along, never have.

"I'm fine," she says, following Margaery's voice until she's peering around the doorframe into the bedroom. "But I'm not the one who's been hurt, how are you doing?" She's relieved to see that the young woman looks relatively well, if very pale and bandaged and generally exhausted. "I brought you something--not really medicine but it might help you feel a little better."

She steps over to the bed and proffers the bowl of chocolates. "We'd frozen some after the Harvest Festival, I remembered how much you like them."

There was nothing wrong with simple flirtation in her eyes. It was the life blood of High Garden, where the flowers smelled sweetly, but the words were sweeter. It was always innocent, hardly extending past the usual gallantries and chivalry. She didn't know what Cougar's status was in terms of love, but she would never overstep that line between what was proper and indecent.

"Similar to that creature?" Things were becoming stranger and less explainable. "There is something about this place. I didn't believe it before, but now I see it. The landscape shifting, that creature, the earthquakes, now this lightening. It seemed so impossible, but what if there is someone behind it?"

It was something they had in common. Margaery had never experienced a winter before and the cold had set her ill at ease. Even with the furnace and the fire, it still wasn't warm enough to her tastes. She had once jested that Tyrell blood ran hot, but it seemed that was untrue in the literal sense.

She smiled, despite the small wince of pain. It was easier to brush everything aside for politeness, but her friend deserved an honest answer for her obvious concern. "My skin is slightly burned, but not so terribly as others. I feel dizzy and sometimes my hearing fades a little, but I have been told it will pass. My heart rate has returned to normal at least." It had been worrying, but compared to the rest of those effected, she had come out with only minor injuries.

Margaery gave a laugh of delight. "Even since the festival, I have become hopelessly addicted to chocolate. I don't know what I will do when I run out. Thank you, truly." A small beat before, "You have remained safe?"

He shrugs, when she brings up the creature. He doesn't know what kind of creature could do this, but there have been so many references to old books and old things. In the myths, Zeus had a lightning bolt that could strike people. "Have you angered any gods?" he asks, in a completely even way that anyone who didn't know him would have trouble telling if he's being serious or not.

It's crazy, but at the same time, what else makes sense? God himself? Maybe in the Old Testament, but still, what are their sins?

She laughed, though her stomach knotted at the mere thought of the gods. "They may have a few complaints." If they existed. Such things seemed beyond this world, even with the thought of someone influencing the environment. "I can't imagine the others incurring their wrath."

It seemed like his question was made in jest. She knew him and his sense of humor, but there was a measure of truth and wonder in it all. Had they angered some higher being?

Listening to Margaery's list of her injuries and symptoms, Nerys thinks back to the console shocks she's seen in the past, figuring that this strike probably equates on that level, at least in this case for her friend. "That sounds about right--you'll be okay, I'm sure, in a few days, if the doctor says so. You just need to keep resting," she says, though she's now even more worried for the others who've been struck that she's not seen. The recovery and treatment here will be limited at best, and--

She's not going to think about people dying, even if it's a possibility that's very real these days. Not right now.

Nerys clears her throat and adds, "I'm fine. Probably too fine. The worst thing that's happened to me is that I've been befriended by, uh...a..." She searches for the word. "A moose! Have you seen one before? They're huge."

"Not just you," is what Cougar says, though he's not sure if that's actually going to be a comfort to her, seeing as it's not like it's something that he can account for. "Don't worry. If it was God being angry? I would be crispy char," he says with a knowing nod of his head, seeing as he's under no delusion about the price he's going to pay for his sins.

"How do you feel?"

"It's the 'resting' that is difficult." Margaery smiled sheepishly. "I dislike being inactive or relying on others to carry my weight." After learning to enjoy hard work and the feeling she received at the end of a productive day, she hated to simple be idle. "I at least can practice my stitching." Which was something.

She knows how deadly these strikes have been, the houses struck and the life that was lost.

Her attention returns to Nerys as she clears her throat, the dark thoughts left behind. "I have!" She laughed. "You are not the only one, it seems. Logan has as well."

"Sometimes I wonder..." it felt like such a weakness to even let her mind drift in this direction. "I wonder if I am being punished." She didn't want to consider it, having dismissed the gods as the ideology as the foolish. Still, there was no denying that this place was dark and harsh. "If this place is hell."

She shook her head, "I am a bit dizzy and my ears are ringing, but my heart rate has slowed to normal again."

He's thought the same himself, many times. The only problem with that theory is that he's managed to find some of the happiest calm of his life here, with Jake, and he's not sure that hell would ever be so generous. "We are all punished, then," he says, and that might be true, because he knows he deserves it.

"What could you have done?" he wonders, giving her a pointed look that says that if this is just guilt, he'll argue her worthiness of such a fate.

Laughing gently, Nerys shakes her head. "Me too. The doctors and medics always hated me when I got sick or injured, back home, because I wouldn't stay down. I probably have a scar or two that would look a little prettier if I hadn't gone running around right after I got it."

Nerys has been healthy here, except for a mild cold or two. This has her somewhat worried, because there are enough people turning up from enough places that she really should have caught something by now. She does know being stressed about not being sick will only make things worse if she does come down with something, though, so trying not to think about it and washing her hands a lot is the main remedy. "And there's nothing wrong with stitching. You're far better at it than I am," she points out. "Which is useful if people want clothes that don't look like rags."

She stretches out her legs, grateful that her boots are relatively clean and not making a mess in the bedroom so that Margaery might feel obligated to clean. "Is that his name, Logan?" she asks. "He didn't strike me as the kind of guy who liked small talk, so we didn't really get introduced. That and I was...concerned...about the moose."

"Claire has been diligent in keeping me in my room. It's only a matter of finding something to do. I wish I had something to read." She had never been a great reader before, but it would be something to occupy her with.

"Not nearly as good as I can be." She laughed, holding up her earlier attempts. There were a number of tangles in the thread, but at least it was looking more like an actual rose. "I was never a diligent student, I had other matters holding my attention. At least now, I can practice more."

She smiled, nodding slowly. "Logan, yes. He keeps to himself, it seems, but he can be friendly...with the right incentive. I think that he is naturally suspicious, especially in this place, though that is hardly a surprise."

"I lied and manipulated to get what I wanted." She said, thinking back to the game that she had willingly played, all in an attempt to gain the thrown. "I sided with a family that had murdered and tormented others, all in a quest for power that rivaled their own." It may seem small, but it had lead to a loss of life that she could not bear on her conscience.

"I imagine life would have gone differently for me if I had not been so intent to become Queen."

Cougar raises his brow. The first point is something they've all done. Cougar's done enough undercover work and special ops to have lied and manipulated more than enough times to earn him a scout's badge in it, but the second part isn't something that he'd ever thought to associate with her, even though it's not that she's a woman. It's that she hadn't struck him as that type, like Aisha, who could turn her power to something so malevolent.

"Why?" he says, bluntly. "Why the need for power?"

"I wish I could offer you a book," replies Nerys in return, and she genuinely means it down to her core. During her time on the station, she was reading constantly, even though nearly all of it was for work, and they'd had a padd or two with the classics and latest samizdat floating around the resistance cell at all times. Part of her's worried she'll forget how to read anything longer than a page or two at a time.

The embroidery is a tiny bit sloppy, but it's far better than anything Nerys herself can do. She makes an admiring sound as she looks at the cloth. "At least you can get stitches to go in lines that are generally where you intend them to be. I just considered mine acceptable if they held two pieces of cloth together, and even that wasn't guaranteed." She snorts and makes a face. "As for Logan being naturally suspicious, I agree, you can't really blame him around here."

Likely he had some sort of past, like Nerys, that made him wary. Possibly also a scent that attracted animals, like those cigars. She'd resisted the urge to comment on his smoking, but it was incredibly strange.

"Because that was the means to survive and prosper in our world." It was a pitiful excuse and not exactly true. She couldn't say why exactly she wanted the power, only that she wanted it. She wanted to be queen. That was all that mattered when she had lived in Westeros. Only until her brother had been placed in danger, all because of her thirst for power.

"I could safeguard and see my family prosper. My children would have been given a golden future and ruled after their father."

Edited 2017-02-28 07:52 (UTC)

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It Comes Crashing Down

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