sixthiterationlogs | 001 ♥ i'm standing on my own two feet

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001 ♥ i'm standing on my own two feet

WHO: Isabelle Lightwood
WHERE: The Fountain, The Inn, and probably the rest of the village, too.
WHEN: 18th.
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Your general panicked-crawling-out-of-the-fountain, some violence because she might punch some people
STATUS: Open

The Fountain; somewhere hanging in between

She's dreaming. She's back at the Adamant Citadel, where the Iron Sisters reside and craft their weapons. This is one of the places she's always dreamed of going, wanting the meet the highly renowned Sisters and see the Citadel with her own eyes. But when she'd gotten the chance to lead up that mission, she'd managed to mess things up. This time, when she's in the water, she doesn't burn. It doesn't bubble and mark her of the sins she's committed, of the impurities she's put herself through.

This time, the water is cool against her skin, and her white dress clings to her thighs. When she opens her eyes, she can see sunlight streaming through the water's surface. She reaches out to touch it, to break her fingers past the surface. But it never happens. The pool at the Citadel isn't that deep.

Her lungs begin to burn. She reaches further, trying to push herself upwards. There's nothing for her feet to find purchase on, and she finds herself scrambling, panic beginning to set in. There's no way she can die like this. Not after dedicating her life to fighting demons. A pool of water is nothing compared to some of the things she's faced, she can't--

Fingers break the water's surface. Air touches her hands, and one last push has her surfacing complete, dragging in a deep breath. This isn't a dream — it's a nightmare. Her surroundings are unfamiliar, her clothes are unfamiliar, her hair hangs wet and heavy around her, and she can only imagine how terrible her makeup must look. But more importantly, she needs to find the others. Alec, Jace, Clary, anybody.

This has to be some sort of portal gone wrong. Really, really wrong.

The Inn; my life and the death of me

She searches. She searches, and she searches, and she searches. There's a police station holding farm animals, a hospital and a town hall that she peers into. Dozens of houses, of which she looks through the windows of. Some appear empty, some appear occupied. Some actively have people in them, and she's always quick to duck away before she can be seen. It would probably be helpful to talk to some of the people she sees, ask them if they've seen her friends.

Normally, she's willing to give everyone a chance. Right now, she doesn't know who she can trust and who she can't. Any of these people could be the reason she's here, and she needs to gather her bearings first. There was a pack with her when she climbed out of the fountain, and she's already searched it. Clothes, mostly. No stele, no whip, no weapon of any kind.

All she has going for her are the runes already burned into her body and her natural angel-infused powers.

After searching the village, she delves into the woods. Here, there are less people. Here, she calls her brothers names until her voice is hoarse. She searches and she yells until she's lost track of time, and she all but tumbles out of the woods, sticks and leaves stuck in her hair. For once, she doesn't care how she looks. She walks towards the lights of the town, and walks into the Inn. She'd peered through the windows before, but deemed it too full and busy to go inside.

But now, she doesn't care. She doesn't care how she looks, or how many people she runs into. She's tired and she's dejected and she has no idea where she is, or what's going on, and she needs some answers. It's warm in the inn, and there's a few people around. She clears her throat, and picks a few sticks from her hair before speaking up, voice strained and raw.

"Would somebody mind telling me where the hell I am?"

[ ooc: feel free to find her around the village too! ]

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A bit of a hike won't bother her at this point. She's scoured the entire village since she's gotten here, a little more walking won't tire her out more than she already is. Besides, at least this time all the walking comes with a nice reward. A hot spring sounds like the only good thing this village has.

"If you wouldn't mind," she says, her voice a little softer. "I'd appreciate it."

"Okay. Let me just grab Ittie." She smiled and turned on her heel. Moana disappeared before Isabelle would be able to stop her. When she returned she was holding a piglet in her arms and had a small bag thrown over her shoulder.

"Let's go!"

She nodded towards the door. "I'll show you the way."

"Grab what?" The words are barely out of Isabelle's mouth before the girl is taking off, disappearing somewhere unseen. She stands there, trying to figure out what an Ittie is. It sounds like a weapon, maybe, and Isabelle's considering where to get her own weapon when Moana continues. Only she's not holding anything even remotely sharp or dangerous. It's a pig.

The closest she's ever gotten to a pig was a morning bacon breakfast.

"Okay," she says, sounding a little uncertain now. "Lead the way."

Moana laughed as she headed towards the door. "Have you never seen a piglet before?" Ittie snorted softly, looking up at Isabelle with large dark eyes. He was very good at understanding those around him. Moana liked that Ittie was so smart, except that it was sometimes troublesome as well.

She turned passed the inn and directed them towards a small path into the woods.

"It's this way and a little hidden in the trees." It's good for privacy. "I usually go every other day to just sit in the warm water."

"Not in person," Isabelle admits, and decides to forgo the comment about having only eaten them. While they never had any pets at the Institute, she was more than used to seeing people around the city walking their dogs, seeing cats sitting perched in windowsills. But this girl has a baby pig, and Isabelle is admittedly a little weirded out by it.

To each their own, she supposes. Guess you can't really be choosy in a place like this.

"As long as it's warm," Isabelle sighs, picking a twig out of her hair. She's a mess and her feet are killing her, and she just wants a second to relax. "I don't suppose it'll magically have some shampoo and conditioner, will it?"

Moan grew up on an island that had pigs and chickens and a few other assorted animals. Pet's were few and far in between. There weren't dogs or cats though she's learned more about dogs since arriving in the village. Having a pet pig was as natural to her as walking around without shoes.

She smiled over at Isabelle, her dark eyes bright despite the shadows of night around them. Her steps are light though the little piglet oinks with each step.

"It is and there isn't anything for your hair but the water makes it a lot softer on it's own." She wasn't familiar with shampoo but Moana had spent some time with Queenie at the hot springs and got a good idea of what Isabelle meant. "It's just over here." She spoke as they got closer, pushing through a small bush that opened into the area where there was a hot spring. She let the little pig down, who rain around happily though he didn't go into the water.

Most pigs don't know how to swim.

Truthfully, she's still holding out hope that she'll wake up and this will all be some wacky nightmare. She'll wake up in her bed in the Institute, surrounded by blankets and soft pillows. She'll go downstairs and see if there's breakfast, or maybe try her hand at a batch of pancakes. Something to give her energy through morning training. Or, really, midday training. Shadowhunters tend to be a tad bit nocturnal, seeing as they're out all night slaying demons.

She can hope. She has to hope. It's not like she's much of a prayer.

"I guess that's a plus," she murmurs, pulling a piece of a leaf from her hair and flicking it onto the ground. They push through some underbrush, emerging in a slightly more open area containing a hot spring.

For some reason, she finds herself surprised. Like she didn't actually expect it to be there, despite willingly following Moana into the area. There's rocks surrounding the pool of water, and all the foliage around it appears greener and brighter. That seems promising, and without further ado, she begins stripping down to her undergarments. She's definitely not lacking in confidence, and standing in a bra and underwear in front of a girl she's just met doesn't bother her at all.

Moana placed her bag down next to the waters edge before following Isabelle's example and removing clothing. She wasn't shy in the strictest of senses, her culture wore very different clothing than the items that she'd been given here. Bra's continued to be a point of contention but Moana began to treat it and her underwear as a bathing suit.

With her clothes peeled away she shoved them into her bag and sank a toe into the water. A smile instantly stretches over her lips. She walked out a short ways, pausing when the water curled at her hips and the tips of her long dark hair began to soak up the warm liquid. "I love the hot springs." Her voice sounds more relaxed than it had before.

After a moment Clary turned to see the little piglet having taken a position on a nearby rock to nap. She knew that he'd enjoy the warmth, even if pigs didn't swim.

She smiled up at Isabelle before diving into her bag. "Here." She pulled a wore looking hair brush from her bag. "I borrowed it." There were a few hair brushes but Moana didn't use one enough to feel like she should own one on her own. "I figured you'd want a brush or I can brush your hair if you'd like."

Isabelle steps into the warm water, her feet bare on the smooth rocks. It laps up around her calves, her thighs and her hips as she moves further in, letting it engulf her. It does wonders to her aching muscles, and the cuts and bruises she's adopted in her day of exploration. After this, she thinks, it'll be nice to lay down and sleep for awhile. Count her blessings and acknowledge the silver linings before resenting the situation some more.

She'll need the rest if she plans on searching like this tomorrow, too.

She sinks in further, letting the water rise up to her shoulders, tickling her throat. For the first time all day, she feels like she can relax, the warm waters unknotting and unwinding her sore muscles. She turns, surprised to see that Moana thought to bring a hairbrush, and is even offering to brush it for her. It's a touching thing, and for a second, Isabelle feels like she might cry.

"Would you?" The sudden overwhelming feeling is easy enough to push down, having had years of practice hiding that sort of thing. But her smile is soft, and genuine, as are her words. "I can't remember the last time somebody brushed my hair for me."

Moana nodded her head. "Yeah, I think there are rocks that might be good for sitting in the water over here." She slowly moved across the warm swirling hot spring water, watching as the surface rippled away from her. She reached out her hand and began to grope for the rock. It almost looked like she was going to fall in before she found a place to sit, where the water settled just below her bust.

"Here!" She was very proud of herself for finding it.

With a wave, Moana encouraged Isabelle to step closer. "I used to love it when my mom brushed my hair. Though it was only before ceremonies when I had to wear specific styles or head dresses."

Isabelle moves through the water, taking careful steps so she doesn't slip or stub her toes on any rocks. The bottom of the hot spring is rocky, but remarkably smooth, with no sharp edges or plants growing and intruding. She sinks down on a rock in front of Moana, her back to the other girl, settling down comfortably.

Maybe with her hair brushed neat and clean, she'll feel a little more like herself. It would help to have a nice pair of boots to slide her feet into, and a short dress to wear instead of these awful scrubs. Some makeup to do herself up with. But for now, she'll have to settle with what she's offered, even if that's as little as a soak in the hot spring and a brush for her hair.

"My mom never brushed my hair," Isabelle sighs, letting her eyes slip closed. Even with her rocky relationship with her mother, she misses the woman desperately right now. "My dad did, though. He was always very gentle about it."

"Knowing dads, he was probably worried he'd hurt you." There was a slight smile in Moana's tone but also something else. It was something akin to humor. As if the thought of any man hurting a girl by brushing their hair was just silly.

Moana pulled Isabelle's hair behind her shoulders before she started to run the brush through it. It was a lazy activity and while there was an end goal, Moana took her time and enjoyed the task. She hummed softly, her voice sweet and musical as she worked from the bottom up, untangling Isabelle's hair.

"Your hair is soft." She spoke as she plucked a twig from Isabelle and tossed it onto the water.

"Probably," she agrees. "He raised me to be tough, but he never wanted to hurt me." Isabelle smiles, looking down at the water as it ripples away from them. This water doesn't bubble and boil, burning her skin like the pool at the Adamant Citadel did. It doesn't mark her of her impurities and almost kill her. She wishes she could do that over, wishes that she never took the yin-fen from Aldertree, recognizing now what he'd been trying to do.

If she ever sees him again, she might punch him in the face. And that's just if she manages to stop herself from flat out killing him.

"It's a mess right now," she sighs, watching the stick float across the water. "I was in the woods all day."

"I think I got all the twigs out." Moana spoke with an encouraging inflection, her tone warm and soft like the water that rippled in gentle waves around them. Even after Isabelle's tangles were gone, Moana continued to brush.

It was nice, listening to the sounds of the spring and the beginnings of spring as the forest began to slowly wake from it's slumber. Moana was eager to see the warm sun, to run without having to wear those bulky shoes and to be able to push a boat on the water. Her fingers lace through Isabelle's hair as she pulls the brush down to it's end.

"Will you tell me about your home? I grew up on a small island. Before I woke up in that fountain. I hadn't seen very much of the realms until recently."

"Thank you." Not only for picking the twigs out of her hair, but approaching her when she didn't seem very approachable, showing her the hot spring, and offering to sit and brush out the mess her hair had became in her frantic searching. It's a lot of kindness she doesn't particularly feel she deserves at the moment, between the way she's treated some people here and everything that's happened back home.

But she won't fight it, and she won't take it for granted, either. She's going to try to find a way to repay Moana for her kindness somehow, someway. Even if it's going to be awhile before she can do that.

"I'm from New York," she answers, carefully scraping dirt from beneath her fingernails as Moana works. "In the city. My family and I, and other people like us — we live in a big, beautiful church called the Institute. I've seen a lot of the city, but I've never really been out of New York before. Never to an island."

"That sounds wonderful." Moana's voice was dreamy when she spoke. "I've been told a lot about cities since I got here. I've never seen one. My father didn't really like the idea of my leaving the island." It was complicated. "Not accounting for the weather, my home is a lot like it is here. Small and everyone knows each other."

She didn't consider her actions random bouts of kindness. It was what you did in a small village, you took care of each other. That's what Moana wanted to do here. She wanted to take care of those who have found themselves in the same situation.

"Have you ever wanted to travel?"

While a small community certainly wasn't how New York was, it was how Shadowhunters were. Everyone knew each other, which meant everyone knew of each family's black sheep, each family's heroes. They knew of every disgrace and every accomplishment. Everyone knew of Clary Fairchild, her mother leaving the community, her father being Valentine. Everyone knew, now, that Jace had the same story. Soon, everyone would know of her disgraces, too.

Small communities were both awful and wonderful for the same reasons. At least in this one, she's afforded the opportunity to make a fresh start. No yin-fen, no vampire venom. No impurities.

"Sort of," she answers, watching twigs and leaves float over the surface of the water. "But New York always had everything I needed. Shopping and parties and my family."

Moana could understand some of that. She liked the parties that they had on her island though shopping had to be explained to her. Most of the things on her island were traded for, the idea of having a formal currency was strange to Moana.

"I've always wanted to travel." She admitted in a soft voice. "But never this far." She meant the village.

"There, all done." Moana smiled and sank back into the water before beginning to tug the comb through her own hair.

"No," Isabelle agrees quietly. "I've never wanted to travel this far, either."

At least, not without her siblings by her side. She can only imagine how much easier it would be to have Jace making sideways comments beside her, to have Alec watching their backs, to have Clary asking questions and pushing her way towards answers. She's not sure when she started to include Clary in the gang, so easily and effortlessly, with hardly any transition at all. But now it's hard to imagine not having their fiery little redhead there with them.

Isabelle moves away, reaching up to touch her smooth, untangled hair with her fingers. She sighs, turning to face Moana with a smile. "Thank you. I don't think I realized how much I needed that."

Moana looked over at Isabelle with a warm smile. "Of course. I've found that the smallest pieces of home are important here." She curled up on a rock, running her fingers over the surface of the water. "They don't seem to mean much until they're gone, then they mean the world."

She looked up at the other girl with larger dark eyes. "There are a lot of nice people here. I'm not telling you to be friends with everyone but you should try and talk to them too. We're all looking for a way home." And clinging to what pieces of home they can find.

The little piglet began to snort softly from where it had fallen sleep, moving its legs like it's running. Moana's head turned and she smiled at the little thing fondly.

Isabelle has no idea where she's supposed to find pieces of home here. Everything's too different from what she's used to. While she's used to a sea of unfamiliar, par for the course for New York, she's also used to being able to locate her siblings's faces in the crowd, and that's definitely not the case here. There's no tall buildings, no concrete, no Clary or Jace or Alec.

She looks down at the water, sinking in further so it laps up around her throat. On the bright side, her hair feels smoother now, and her feet don't hurt so much. It's the little things, she guesses. Even if they're not from home.

"I guess I have some amends to make," she admits, disliking the idea of needing to apologize. "I wasn't exactly nice to some people when I came out of that fountain."

Moana shrugged a bit. "You don't have to be nice to all of them." She smiled, trying to might light of a rather tense situation. "But for now we're together and we should help each other. Right?"

She moved over to the waters edge, lifting herself out of the heat so that she could ring out her hair and begin to dry. Moana didn't really like using towels and while it wasn't very warm out, she'd be fine for a bit.

Isabelle remains sunken down in the water, thinking she could stay in here all night long and be content with it. At least that way, she wouldn't have to head back into the village and face her problems. Like being stuck here, feeling weaker than normal, being separated from everyone and everything she knows and loves.

It's not a smart way to go about things. If she's going to be stuck here, she needs to branch out, make friends and allies, make it a place worth living in while she's here. That's easier said than done, though.

"Yeah," she sighs, finding herself a rock to sit on while staying in the water. "Working against each other isn't going to solve anything."

Moana gathered her hair in her palms before twisting a waterfall of liquid onto the rock she was sitting on. The noise woke Itiiti from his nap and almost sent the young piglet sliding into the water. Moana tensed until he crawled back up to her side and sat. Pigs usually didn't know how to swim.

"Yeah. Do you want to stay longer? I'll stay with you. I don't think it's safe on you own." Though she didn't want to stay all night. It'd been a long day and tomorrow would be another long day.

Isabelle's gaze drifts to the piglet, ready to catch it if it slid into the water. But it crawls right back up, and so she tips her head back instead, letting more of her hair dip into the water.

"I'd like to stay awhile," she says, closing her eyes against the darkening sky. "You don't have to stay with me, though. I'm good at taking care of myself."

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chosenbytheocean - 2017-05-19 20:27 (UTC) - Expand

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