Bree (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
givingback) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nysalogs2018-09-11 02:32 pm
givingback) wrote in nysalogs2018-09-11 02:32 pm
} open
Who: Brianna Randall (givingback) & OPEN
What: Heading back to where everyone's hanging out in stasis.
When: September 12th.
Where: The Station
Warning(s): death of a parent conversations likely.
[ It's not even mid-month yet, and already, Bree's had a more exhausting September than she's ever had in her life. Her mother? Possessed - literally. That would be enough, but the ghosts, the wailing, the missing of the dead was all too much. Enough to push Bree into finally getting back to the station, back to where everyone is still in stasis.
It's not hard to find the room once there, and as she stares at all the pods she wonders how they choose who gets to wake and who doesn't. A daughter needs her father with her, right? Or maybe it's enough that she has her mother. Maybe it's enough that she has a father she doesn't even know well yet. Walking among the pods, she finds Frank easily enough. His glasses are on his face and she closes her eyes for a second against a laugh that's half amusement half...something else. ]
Can't forget your reading glasses.
[ She murmurs that softly, touching the pod feather lightly before looking up at his sleeping (?) face. ]
You have no idea how much I miss you. Sometimes, back home, it still felt like a dream. I keep walking back through that day because it seems so impossible. You were alive in the morning when I came downstairs. You were alive when I went to the library. You were alive when I was at the movie. And then you weren't. You were just gone. You were gone in between me buying popcorn and watching Tunga Khan executing all the missionaries. It isn't fair.
[ Taking a deep breath and wiping away a tear, she slides down and sits on the floor right by his pod. And she talks to him. About everything. He probably can't hear her, but she tells him she knows about Jamie, about the stones and all the rest of it, talking to him for hours before finally sounding like she's wrapping up. ]
I wish they would wake you up. I'm here, and we could have more time together. All you have to do is wake up, dad.
[ She's not even aware that anyone else has entered the room with her, sitting with her knees curled up to her chest. ]
givingback) & OPEN What: Heading back to where everyone's hanging out in stasis.
When: September 12th.
Where: The Station
Warning(s): death of a parent conversations likely.
[ It's not even mid-month yet, and already, Bree's had a more exhausting September than she's ever had in her life. Her mother? Possessed - literally. That would be enough, but the ghosts, the wailing, the missing of the dead was all too much. Enough to push Bree into finally getting back to the station, back to where everyone is still in stasis.
It's not hard to find the room once there, and as she stares at all the pods she wonders how they choose who gets to wake and who doesn't. A daughter needs her father with her, right? Or maybe it's enough that she has her mother. Maybe it's enough that she has a father she doesn't even know well yet. Walking among the pods, she finds Frank easily enough. His glasses are on his face and she closes her eyes for a second against a laugh that's half amusement half...something else. ]
Can't forget your reading glasses.
[ She murmurs that softly, touching the pod feather lightly before looking up at his sleeping (?) face. ]
You have no idea how much I miss you. Sometimes, back home, it still felt like a dream. I keep walking back through that day because it seems so impossible. You were alive in the morning when I came downstairs. You were alive when I went to the library. You were alive when I was at the movie. And then you weren't. You were just gone. You were gone in between me buying popcorn and watching Tunga Khan executing all the missionaries. It isn't fair.
[ Taking a deep breath and wiping away a tear, she slides down and sits on the floor right by his pod. And she talks to him. About everything. He probably can't hear her, but she tells him she knows about Jamie, about the stones and all the rest of it, talking to him for hours before finally sounding like she's wrapping up. ]
I wish they would wake you up. I'm here, and we could have more time together. All you have to do is wake up, dad.
[ She's not even aware that anyone else has entered the room with her, sitting with her knees curled up to her chest. ]
Room for one more?
One such turn takes him down the wrong path, and course correcting sends him further off. He's cussing himself, it's been a while since he'd lost his bearings up here but the rows stretch into infinity and the new stops enroute confound his sense of direction.
The confession drifts up from seeming silence, the exact words jumbled by faint echoes. A familiar voice he has trouble placing until he's wandered into her hall. Copper-haired Bree, spilling her guts out to an older man lying prone as the rest of them. "All you have to do is wake up, dad."
Oh hell, he's got the world's worst timing. Richie freezes up for a moment. Then he looks to his flask, lips pursed. He waggles the it in the air.]
Looks like you need this more than I do today.
[He tosses her the flask with a light hand.]
always, for you!
You have really great timing.
[ She doesn't even pause to see what it might be, just opens the flask and takes a long pull from it. It seems fitting; she'd happened upon him once, and now in a totally different setting, here he is. ]
Come here often?
[ Bree sort of chokes that out, around the burn in her chest. ]
no subject
A little too often, speaking frankly. Lots of folks went back to sleep this past month.
[He takes the address as an invitation to move forward, hands tucked into the pockets of his trench as his eyes skate over the man in the pod. Stiff lipped, lines cut severly into his cheeks and silvered ends to his brown hair. Thick rimmed glasses that make him pat his own nose in reminiscence. Not too unlike the specs of his past. That's sixties chic there, impeccably dressed from head to toe.]
It was recent, wasn't it? His passing.
no subject
[ She doesn't know if she should feel bad about that or not. She goes with not; it isn't as if she's been awake long. At his question, Bree nods, letting out a breath, passing back the flask. ]
A few months ago. And then, right after, my mother was gone. The time traveler I told you about before. You were a kid again, I'm not sure if you remember. And by the way, it happened to me, too. One minute I was twenty, the next I was five.
no subject
He takes the flask back and has a commiserative swig himself as she gives the details.]
So you were alone? [The worry reads clear in his knotted brow, though he still chuckles when she brings up their inauspicious meeting.] I do, I remember that part because it's crazy. Fits you right in with the medieval knights and the talking raccoons.
Five, though, hot damn. Bet you were a hellion. How many grown folks got an ulcer when you tottered past their kneecaps like that? [He shakes his head.] The kids don't wake up at all, I think this is the first any refugee had to babysit their own kind since the apocalypse.
no subject
[ That's the part Bree questions first, and now that he mentions it, other than seeing him as a kid and her brother, no, she's never seen another child. But she never sought them out or looked for them, and so never actually paid attention. ]
I still haven't seen a talking raccoon, by the way. But I did meet a knight. And a God. And a woman who I think is part fish. Or she just...is a fish. I'm not sure, it seemed rude to ask.
no subject
[He tilts his head, bemused.]
What, like a mermaid? Or a fish-shaped person? Tell me it's the former, I'd gladly drown at sea if Brigette Bardot was waving at me from a rock. [Aliens are wild.] And who's the motherfucker calling themselves "God?" I've got a bone or two to pick with 'em.
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[ And there are a lot of implications there. Is pro-creation not something they're allowed to do for as long as they're here? Not that Bree has ever been eager to be a mother, but it just seems cruel for all women to suddenly have the choice taken away from them. But that's a different conversation for a different time and place.
Instead, she focuses on trying to describe Mipha. ]
More of a fish-shaped person, I'd say? And she said she was a 'Zora.' A princess, even. She used some kind of magic to heal a cut on my leg, it was pretty impressive, and she was nice. Definitely not human features, though.
[ Bree wrinkles her nose. ]
Thor. And I think he's really, legitimately the Norse God. We talked for a while.
no subject
Is it really? I wouldn't want kids — anybody's kids — running underfoot when there's a beast like Ysevrai waiting to pick them off. Things look more peaceful now, but... [He trails off with a shrug. It's a tenuous situation and a thrice broken land. He wouldn't trust that Olympia and Wyver could link pinkies for peace longer than a few months.
Her recollection of the fish woman gets a curious pop of the brows and a quick,] How about that, magic being useful for once. [but the god bit?]
Thor. [He cocks his head. All right. Well. Diana had been a real life Amazon. Maybe there was a world adjacent where the old myths held water. Funny how no one's come back raving about Moses or Kali. Is European culture the only kind getting a pass?] Funny you should say that, I tossed a dog biscuit at Anubis just last week. How do you know for sure? Did he summon a lightning bolt, do a little smiting?
no subject
I guess it doesn't really matter, anyway. It is what it is, right?
[ She shrugs just a little, raising her eyebrows. ]
The three-headed dog? Is he just...here? Is he someone's pet? How's that work, exactly? And as far as Thor goes, we talked a lot, about his world, about him. Maybe he was lying but he sure knew a lot.
no subject
You're thinking of Cerberus. Anubis is the jackal-head guarding the dead down in Egypt. Not that it matters — I was yanking your chain.
What's he look like? I'd like to meet him. And what's with your luck, huh? First Captain America, now Thor? You ever trip over Aphrodite you send her my way, you hear?
[Errantly his eyes fall on the father yet again. Richie's lips purse.]
Where's your mom? You said she hopped back in time right after. Did the Natha pick her up? I know they split sections sometimes, but usually everybody gets grouped together. Like with like and all that.
no subject
[ Frank's rolling in his stasis chamber right now. ]
Thor is uh...lot of muscles? Blonde hair. I mean he seriously looks like he could lift any person in this place over his head and throw them all the way back up to the ship.
[ She'll leave out the part where she got to cuddle in his arms for warmth, but still. ]
Captain America - Steve - happens to be good friends with my mother. It's all very odd. How haven't you met any of these people?
[ But Bree will casually name drop Richie if a hot goddess ever comes her way. ]
My mom's been awake for over a year. Almost since the start of everything. She was visiting me in stasis not too long ago. All this time, I was asleep but I thought she was in Scotland in the past. But she was...here.
[ It hurts her brain to think about. ]
no subject
I'll let them know when they show up that you couldn't keep them straight. They'll be real torqued, I'm sure.
[Fat chance of that. He'll see about this Thor fucker first before putting stock in old gods cropping up.
why would you leave out the warm cuddles that's CRUCIAL DETAILS BREE]I was too busy laying chilly with ghosts in glass balls, remember? [He frowns as she carries on. If her mother's been awake this whole time he might know the old gal, but with how many old timers had fallen back asleep and all the new folks springing awake, it was tough to say.]
Well... [He clucks his tongue and shakes his head.] Bree that might not be the case. Things don't line up so neat and tidy where the Orbiters and their apocalypses are concerned. People fall back asleep at times, then they wake up remembering more than they should. I'm talking years worth, as if the Storm didn't hit their world at all. Even if they remember it ending before that.
And if she was back in old Scotland when you weren't, yet the Storm hit Earth during your time, then she wouldn't have gotten picked up at all now would she? She would have lived and died long before the Storm hit.
[He folds his arms and shifts his feet, tempted to lean on the pod next to Frank's but catching himself before he does. Whoever that poor anonymous S.O.B. was deserved better respect than that.]
It's unclear what's happening there, with how they can pick up people ahead of and behind you in your own timeline. Makes you wonder if any world truly ended after all.
no subject
You know, this is all headache inducing. What's the saying, ignorance is bliss? I don't know if I necessarily believe that, but there's a lot to try and learn and understand. I hope whoever's calling the shots will forgive my lack of trying so far.
[ She does plan on trying, the historian in her won't let it go, but she's glad for now for someone like Richie who doesn't mind explaining things on her level - at least for now. ]
no subject
I'm inclined to believe they'd rather you not bother. [He winks at her while knocking back another swig.] But don't pay too much mind to me. I'm old and paranoid and apt to wrap the tin foil on my skull at a moment's notice. We're all stumbling around blind here, your guess is as good as mine.
[He twists the cap back on.] Suppose I ought to leave you in peace and finish my own rounds. Unless you're ready to head back yourself.
no subject
[ First smokes, now drinks, what can't Richie provide? ]
no subject
Commitment.]Anytime. [And he means it, too. She's a good kid.] I tend bar at Shades Darker too, if you ever need a pint on discount. Take it easy, Bree-child.
[He waves her off and stalks back into the endless rows. There's plenty of old pals yet in need of their weekly grovelling.]