001 ♥ i'm standing on my own two feet

[fightsinheels]

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

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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! ]

Comments

[3ofswords]

The sense comes and goes, or perhaps he's simply used to the low volume of it, the constant bubble of it like a stream running slowly aground for a dry season. Sometimes the cards shuffle and split in his hands by chance, no voice in them, no wisdom to be gleaned. Sometimes the birds lift from the trees in a pattern that says stay in today. Most days, they're just birds.

Today, he has Aurora to back him up. They're in the bedroom, right at the front of the house, the window cracked for the temperate air as he works burrs and knots from her fur with his fingers, sometimes cutting clumps free with his shears.

Her ears swivel and she perks up toward the window, and it bubbles one sense up from the mud they've sunk into: not quite of someone at the window itself, but a kind of loss. A door opening in an apartment down the hall, the sound of keys settling on a ring, a voice disappearing down stairs. Exchanging a look with the young dog, he eases her off his lap, putting the shears in his pocket. "Guess it's time for a walk," he says, and she stamps her feet once before heading for the door.

When he comes out the front of the house and starts down the steps of the porch, there's a woman he hasn't yet seen standing outside Ren's house. It's worse for the wear after Casey's ransacking, but still standing as much as it can, the medusa's head still burned into the roof, only just visible from his porch. Only distinguishable because he's climbed up on his own roof to examine it, and know it's full shape.

"Are you new here," he calls, wondering why anyone else would come this far south. The only real attractions are Ren's grave and the spring.

INN

[chosenbytheocean]

Rope was tabled between Moana's fingers when the girl stepped into the inn. It wasn't someone that Moana had seen before though that didn't always mean that she was new. Her question however, gave her away.

Moana pushed herself up from her spot in front of the fireplace. Her long curled hair fell freely at her shoulders, her clothing very similar to Isabelle's but her paints were a deep navy blue. She pocketed the necklace she'd been working on and stepped over, her dark eyes clear and sympathetic.

"We don't know who brought us here." She spoke in a cautious tone, as if she was speaking to a wounded animal. "Are you alright? Did you just arrive." She looked at Isabelle's hair, the twigs tangled in the dark silky strands and then the dirt and other particles on her clothes. Her dark eyes flicked towards the window before looking back at the girl, there was still some sunlight left.

"I can try and explain more but it looks like you could use a warm bath. There is a hot spring close to town. I can take you and try and answer your questions." It was the best that Moana could currently offer her.

fountain

[71st_victor]

Oh, good, another one is bubbling out of the fountain. Johanna had come here to get water for some of her plants, seeing as it's closer than the springs, but she has to set the bucket aside when a woman's face comes out of the depths, making her wish that she was more startled by something like this, where really, she's just annoyed because she probably shouldn't use the water. Maybe she'll just decide to be lazy and roll with it, but she should probably help out.

Whatever, this whole place is annoying when it comes to fucking up her day. Holding out her hands, she gives the woman an expectant look. "C'mon, what are you waiting for?" she demands.

Inn

[powerunleashed]

Jean felt the distress before the girl said anything. Her powers were much weaker here, sure, but strong emotions still leaked through and just before she'd asked where she was Jean had felt the confusion, the exhaustion and a thread of frustration. She looked up from the book she'd borrowed from the schoolhouse (Vanity Fair, which was actually interesting for once) and gave her a little smile.

"Yeah, you're actually in one of the circles of hell. That's the short version. The long version is that you're in a creepy village in a place nobody recognizes and there's about two dozen more of us here with you."