sixthiterationlogs | arrival; what joy, a perfect holiday

Entry tags:

arrival; what joy, a perfect holiday

WHO: Neil Mackay
WHERE: Next to the fountain and then throughout the area
WHEN: February 25th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Possible violence or threats of it, possible discussion of past war-time violence
STATUS: Just so very open

arrival;

The fountain feels like a dream- the water, swimming up through it but feeling the pressure, the need to reach air again... it's a bit more metaphorical than most of his dreams these days, but the theme's the same. Of course, then he breaches the surface and it's all a bit more real than it should be. It's chilly and it's wet and it's definitely not the Polish forests.

Right, then.

He'll be by the fountain for a while, sorting through the contents of his backpack and trying to untangle what the fuck just happened and how he wound up this far separated from the team.

reconnaissance;

Neil's exploration- whenever it ends up taking place- is systematic, thorough, and only slightly hampered by the fact that these boots are still squelching every time he walks. The rest of his clothes are dry, it's just the bloody boots that are getting on his last bloody nerve.

He spends a lot of time on the borders of the canyon, eyeing up the cliffs and wondering how fast it'd take whatever guards this camp's got to react, how fast the guns would fire. Not a test to make in the middle of the day, when anyone can see him. He'll be back once he knows more.

He spends time in the village, too, inspecting the buildings and watching the inhabitants with disguised suspicion. Fellow inmates or something else? It's too early to say.

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Jyn's routine since her arrival has been mostly steady, with the occasional straying from pattern. Part of her hates the idea a routine - hates the monotony of it, hates the predictability of it - but the part of her that's spent her life in war relishes the idea. It clings to the familiarity of waking up with first light, rolling over lazily to find Cassian beside her, spending a few extra, beloved moments with him before starting her day. There are times they'll go about their days in parallel lines, constantly at each other's side with minimal curvature, but they are independent, solitary creatures out of habit - many days they go about their business on their own, always promising to return at the end of the day, together.

This day is one of the latter, where Jyn decided to check the traps laid about in the forest, then perhaps slink over to the spring Kira had showed her shortly after she'd arrived. There's no anxious, teeth-gritting pace here - no looming shadow of an Empire bent on destruction, no Rebellion, no Saw. She doesn't indulge often, but every once in a while, she likes to allow herself to relax - take a deep breath, appreciate the quiet life she's managed to find here. So when she catches sight of what appears to be an unfamiliar face, leering in shadows and cover of buildings and structures, she stops. Posture stiffens, old habits of approaching possible hostile lifeforms quick to return.

She has no weapon her - not that there are much to begin with - but she isn't terrible concerned.

"Did you just arrive?" she calls out tentatively, voice strong and solid, with soft edges to take away the threat.

Edited 2017-02-25 22:14 (UTC)

Threat or no threat, the voice directed at him makes him stiffen. He turns with a casualness he doesn't feel, eyeing the woman who addressed him. She's small, but that's no reason to dismiss her as an opponent- he knows Aurora Luft, after all. To a trained eye, his stance is one that'll lend him shift to defense or attack easily, his body centred and balanced and ready to move. He doesn't yet. She's not hostile yet.

Of course it'd be easy to identify an outsider here. The population's small and the space is enclosed, they probably don't get a lot of drifters. He wonders if everyone comes the way he did, up through the fountain, but that's information he might be able to gather now... if she proves friendly. He's still wary. "Who's asking?"

She studies him carefully without being intrusive - the intel she finds in his posture, the way he moves, the readiness in his muscles, indicates it's very likely he's been in war. Either as actual military personnel, or perhaps something like what Jyn had gone through - nothing terribly official, no rank or decoration to speak of, but caught in war, all the same. She finds a strange sort of solace in finding others who've come from similar shadows in their past - there's always a silent, innate understanding in each other that she's hard pressed to find in civilians. It's not exactly the stuff warm and fuzzy friendships are made of, commiserating over fallen comrades and PTSD, but it's solidarity.

She makes sure her empty hands are visible, relaxes her shoulders enough to appear less threatening (though still capable, should the need arise), shifts her weight to one foot instead of both. She takes a very small step forward and to the side.

"I am," she replies, hesitating a moment before adding, "Jyn Erso." She doesn't necessarily expect him to know who she is or recognize anything in the sounds of her name, but it's another method of showing she's not a threat. Threats don't willingly give their names to strangers.

Arya might have been there long enough to ‘settle’ herself, but the idea of that just set her teeth on edge, no matter that her brothers, her sister were there, no matter that they’d slowly made a few friends in this strange place. Survival had relied on movement for long enough now that the girl was uneasy staying put, and certainly didn’t settle into a specific routine for too long before that anxiety had her shifting her habits again. Like today, spent in the woods despite the risk of it, keeping an eye out for signs of deer trails or new rabbit burrows that her brothers might be interested on the next hunting day.

It was late afternoon when she finally headed back towards the village, a larger branch in her hand, straight and sturdy. It wasn’t a practice sword, but cleaned up a bit with something wrapped to act as a grip it would be close enough, seeing how she’d broken her last one. She slowed as she noticed the stranger, curiosity and her own less-well disguised suspicion clear in her gaze.

“You’re new.” Not a question, it didn’t need to be. She hasn’t seen the stranger around before this , and it wasn’t that big a place that she wouldn’t have at least seen him in passing.

That was easy enough. She's taking enough steps to look non-threatening that Neil knows she's doing it on purpose. The name's interesting- not from any of the countries near Poland that he knows, though admittedly he's not too familiar with anything farther East. Not something to get hung up on, though. He nods. "Right, then. Yeah, I'm new. Where are we? Germany?"

He's pretty sure it's not Germany, but he needs to know so that he can start planning what to do and where to go once he gets out of this hole.

"Jesus, they've got bloody kids here." That wasn't directed at Arya- more at the air above him. He knew that the Germans were taking kids, they were killing them, they weren't any more privileged than their parents just because of their age. It was still strange to see a young girl on her own here.

Complaint lodged with the universe, he nodded to Arya. "Got it in one. Are you living in the village? Is this a prison?"

She wasn't sure what to make of the complaint. Her being younger didn't mean she was safe and protected, it never had and never would in her experience. But she was content to shrug that aside to focus on what he actually asked her, the hand not holding the stick setting against a hip as she frowned at the surroundings.

"Yes. For all we have no idea who our jailers are, nor why we've been dragged to this place, it seems to be a prison. Unless we've got a very skilled liar on our hands, everyone in the village is a prisoner as well, dragged in through that horrible fountain."

Kids should be protected and looked after. It went against Neil's sense of right and wrong that he'd seen so many cases where they weren't- though he'd seen parents and families do anything to protect them, too. But he wasn't going to get lost in his thoughts right now, he had a conversation to continue.

"So we don't know how or why we're here and we've got no idea who it is that's doing the imprisoning? That's brilliant, that is. It's not the Germans?" He hadn't seen any swastikas or uniforms when he'd been exploring the perimeters, and they usually liked to make their presence known. But he had to check.

"There have been some places found, but no people yet. If you go into the Inn there's a map and I think they've marked where things are as people explore and find them." She could be personable long enough to help the newcomer, it wasn't that hard. And she needed to practice anways, practice being at least semi-friendly in general just in case someone came that she really didn't want knowing about just how far down the road of revenge she'd gone. "It's also a good place to stay if you don't want to worry about cleaning out a house for yourself."

"Who are the Germans?" She frowned as she asked this, wracking her brain for any mention of 'Germans' that she could remember and coming up blank.

"That's good to know. Which way's that?" He'd seen a few buildings that looked to be more inhabited than the rest, but he wasn't sure which one of those the Inn would be. Not that he would have trouble figuring it out but there was nothing wrong with getting information and building a connection with the kid. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of the team and that meant that he was going to have to get allies. Kids could be useful- people overlooked them and they were usually sharper than adults thought they were. They'd used them as message runners all the time.

"The- Germans. The Boche, the Nazis- you know, lots of uniforms and saluting and yelling. I'd have thought they were definitely behind a place like this."

"Come on, I'll show you." She didn't mind the idea of slipping in for a hot drink after a day of exploration, and it would mean he was less likely to get turned around. Not that it was too easy to do so, but sometimes it paid just to do things the simple way. Gesturing as she turned to walk, trusting that he'd follow her.

"I can't say I've heard of them by any of those names. But then, insane as it sounds, many here claim to be from entirely different worlds, or if they are from the same world, they seem to not be from the same time, if you can believe that." She grimaced, knowing how mad it sounded, even if she'd come to accept that of everything that much at least was true. "The only proof I have honestly is that several of my siblings are here, and none of us seem to remember to the same point as the others. I'd say it's a terrible joke, but it's gone on too long for that, and they aren't the sort to joke about a thing like that."

"Thanks." He followed her a few steps behind, alert for any sign of her leading him into an ambush. He had no obvious reason to mistrust her, but just because his first instinct was to like her didn't mean she wasn't part of some kind of gang. Fellow coppers had fallen prey to this sort of thing back in Shanghai all the time and if there were no guards on the prison there was no telling how the inmates had organized themselves.

She was right. It did sound mad- completely and utterly bonkers. Maybe he'd just lost it in the woods and Alfred was somewhere shaking him and trying to snap him out of it. "Sure, why not? This makes complete and utter sense- never heard anything more likely in my life."

His sarcasm was as thick as he could possibly make it.

She didn't take his distrust personally. Honestly it was a good thing, hinting that if something were to go wrong that he'd be more likely to avoid getting caught in the middle. But it did mean she'd have to be mindful of how she behaved around him. But she could do that, she'd been honing her skills with Margaery, felt much more confident about her ability to appear as nothing more than a normal girl.

She let out an inelegant snort at the sarcastic response, smirking over her shoulder at him.

"Completely rational and logical right? Just like the flying pigs I've heard so much about."

He'd be in the middle of anything that went wrong, but he wouldn't be caught. He'd be punching things, as he usually did. He knew how to deal with trouble.

"Oh, yeah, who wouldn't want pigs with wings? Totally normal. Speaking of, is it normal to go around here armed? That's a big stick you've got." If there was trouble here, he wanted to be ready for it.

"Most carry something, at least a knife or something of the sort. There have been incidents, some sort of creature around the time I arrived, but since that it's been calm. But as small as the population is here, I wouldn't put it past predators to come sniffing around." She shifted the stick in her grasp, glancing down at it.

"I use sticks like this to practice my swordplay. My last one finally broke, and this one is of a size to work in it's place."

"Afraid I've never heard of a place called Germany before," she replies tentatively. She knows the panic that often ensues when one finds out they are nowhere near their home, whether it be country, planet, or galaxy. She remembers the way her body trembled at the thought of being in a separate galaxy all together, but how oddly freeing it had been at the same time. Such a conflicting feeling. "But as far as I know, this town isn't near it. It - I'm not exactly sure where we are, to be honest." She doubts it's what the stranger wants to hear, but it's the truth. She finds no point in muddling it for the sake of an easier blow to the gut.

"What's your name?"

She has the distinct feeling of being watched while she goes about her routine in fishing, but also in her going back and forths between various residences for visits and more professional calls to offer her lessons in self-defense. Eventually, she decides to do a following of her own, lingering back until she pins a new man acting in such a manner that it washes over her as quite familiar.

It's the sort of work she might expect one of the Howling Commandoes to do, prior to a mission. Finally, she decides to address the situation head on and waits outside the schoolhouse, where she had just reassembled the desks after a self-training sessions. "I'm not sure what you're looking for," Peggy calls over to him, "but perhaps you might like some help in finding it?" This said, despite the fact that she suspects there is no it to find.

Not being near Germany he could almost comprehend. Never even having heard of it, when it was reaching out like a red and black octopus attempting to strangle the world? That seemed a lot less likely. It was so unlikely that it probably wasn't a lie, because who would lie about a thing like that? He scrubs a hand through his curls, trying to make sense of it. Arriving through a fountain to a place he doesn't know... what's the purpose of it? Where's the sense? He needs to get back to Poland before the team moves on.

He shakes his head and brings himself back to the present. "Sorry, got lost in my head there a second. I'm Neil Mackay."

"Yeah, in an isolated place like this..." He hadn't seen signs of anything too big in the woods when he'd been searching them, but something could come down the canyon walls if they weren't guarded up at the top. "Swordplay? People still use swords where... or when, whatever, you come from?"

Kids her age played with swords at home in England, playing Camelot or what have you, but she sounded a bit more serious about it than that.

Neil definitely clocks the woman who spotted him, but it isn't a priority until she addresses him. He isn't trying to go unseen, he just wanted to have an idea of what was going on before he started chatting people up. Well, looks like he's going to have to adjust the timetable a little. "Right now? I'm looking for a way out of here. If you've got any recommendations, I'd love to hear them."

It's odd to hear another English accent in a place that is, hopefully, Poland or somewhere near it, but it's still somewhat comforting. Even if he stays on guard.

Jyn takes advantage of his distant gaze, knowing he's lost in the labyrinth of his mind as he tries to navigate his way to making sense of it all, to take a few more steps in his direction. Nothing too quick or too invasive, but enough to get a better view of him - study the cues and ticks of his facial features, read him better. He seems to be taking the news significantly better than all the others she'd met after they'd arrived. Tactical brain, she reasons - it takes over in times of stress.

"No need," she replies, voice still sure and strong but softened. "Neil Mackay, pleasure." She sees his clothes have dried, so he must have arrived some time ago. "Have you - had anything to eat? Since you've arrived?" She glances down to his boots. "I imagine you might also want to dry out your shoes, your socks?"

Moana was trying to find a way out, despite what people have told her. She had originally come out to the forest to find more milkweed. She'd just finished her net and she needed more of the fibrous material for her next project. As she gathered she eventually found herself face to face with a rock wall. As her eyes looked up the towering surface she had one thought enter her mind:

I can climb that.

The sound of steps made her drop her collection of dried stalks and turn. Her dark eyes looking for whatever had made that sound.

"Hello? Someone there?" Moana didn't have her spear with her, nor did she look particularly frightening.

Neil had seen the girl eyeing up the wall before she'd heard him, but she looked harmless enough that he hadn't bothered to sneak. It seemed like he'd still startled her by the way she dropped her armful and turned and he held up his hands- hopefully enough of a sign that he didn't mean any harm. "Sorry, didn't mean to frighten you- I'm just taking a look around. Looks like you are too?"

Moana relaxed, her arms falling back down to her sides. For the moment she kept her collection of reeds at her side on the ground. She was most likely going to put them down anyway.

"Yeah. I was looking for stalks." She looked down at what she'd gathered before looking back up at Neil, she hadn't see him around. "Then I wondered if there was a way out over the cliff."

Neil's had so much happening over the last weeks that it's hard to dredge up a feeling more intense than resignation. Right now, all he wants is to get home- meaning where the team is, not England.

"Christ, these boots- of course they give you spares of everything else but they let you walk around with wet bloody boots. I'll be lucky I don't get trenchfoot at this rate." Launching into a complaint about something small- something fixable- is almost a relief. He might not be able to get what he wants, but he can dry his boots out. "If you've got somewhere to take a load off, I think I'm done sticking my nose in things for now."

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arrival; what joy, a perfect holiday

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