( open. )

[wolfchild]

CHARACTERS: the artist formerly known as arya and you
DATE: spanning several days
WARNINGS: will edit if needed
SUMMARY: arrival shenanigans aka indoor plumbing is the single greatest thing you guys

[ with the purple hood pulled over her shaved head and clad in her new black trousers with the white and purple piping along the sides, her feet encased in tall, good boots, the new girl looks like she belongs. zokla is her name, for being the word to come to mind after discounting the others. she did not know what to expect to risk cat as she might otherwise have done; she could no longer be beth since her vision was returned. she wasn't sure if the kindly man would have insisted on "no one" or if that here too would not serve.

it's a good word, she decides. fierce. the girl turns it over on her tongue. zo-kla. it has a sound like a pause, then a sharp strike. much like the creature it means. it will make a good name.

the bedrooms had been dull, each one identical to the last. at least, those she could open. she tried to pick one of the locked doors, but without the proper tools gave it up for lost. there is plenty more to see, however, and zokla's steps soon speed up until she is dashing through halls and rooms trying to see it all.

she is outside, studying the strange animals stabled with a curious eye and wishing she could mount a horse and ride out, but zokla has never touched a horse much less mounted one so she pushes aside the memory of wind through her hair and the ground falling away ( that memory belongs to another girl, and anyway she has nowhere to ride to — )

or she cranes her neck at one of the suits of armor, distracted by it, as if she might catch glimpse of the person that must be inside before stepping closer to knock on the metal and being greeted by the hollow sound, and when it sets off on its patrol, she follows behind, often getting it to divert from its path to show her where to find this place or that one until she has memorized the paths herself —

or she is piling a dish high come mealtimes, grabbing a little of everything and then some more because zokla would know the hollow ache of going to bed hungry and would cheer that those days are now past —

or she is in the kitchen standing on tiptoes before the faucet, laughing in delight at the splash of water on her fingers the temperature of which she can change, now hotter, now colder, with a simple twist of the knobs and from which she can drink deep, the water clean and sweet —

or she stumbles across the greenhouses and spends a day up to her elbows in loose, dark earth, learning which plants are safe and which will raise an unsightly purple rash on her skin, which are good to eat, good for injury, good for aches, and which will render you ill almost to death ( or kill you outright ) — when she's not chasing after a wide-leafed bush with pale red flowers that likes to get up and walk away on rope-like roots —

or she comes into the forge when it looks empty and passes a hand over the tools, picking one or two off the wall ( those that she can lift ) and thinks she might have known someone once who would have lived here happily —

or she makes her way through the dungeons to come upon the strange sight of a thousand, thousand mirrors stretching so far up and so far away she cannot see those furthest and spends hours among the reflections as if she might make sense of them. ( as if one of them might show her a wall made of ice at the end of the world. ) ]

(( note: feel free to use any of the suggested locations or use another! if you'd like a personalized starter, pm me or comment to this post! ))

Comments

LOKI.

[wolfchild]

[ the girl slips down the hall on quick, little shadow feet. a castle hall, wide and lined with doors. she presses ears to doors, tries those which harbor nothing but silence behind them. many will not open. those that do look the same as the one before it and the one before that, and she lingers less time in each. they are all the same as the one in which she awoke, confused and wary, though not afraid.

this will be a trick. a test the kindly man has set for her, she's sure. she has the silver baby bracelet she picked from the pile and she has her knives, one in her sleeve, one in her boot, one strapped to her lower back. she has her walking stick with which she can whack anyone who strays too close. best of all, she has her eyes again. now, she need only discover what is its purpose and the solution will follow.

first, what does she know. she's in a castle the likes of which she has not seen. when she peered out a window, she found it surrounded by land, not water, and she knew why she missed the tang of salt of the brackish waters of the lagoon. once upon a time, she had known castles. but there are none in braavos and certainly none like this. it would have been impressive were it in better shape. in parts, cracks arc up walls and across ceilings. a few cross the floor. she hops light as feathers over each, landing silent on the other side. this is an old game. a little creature skittering through a massive edifice searching out what there is to be found.

she has opened her seventh door when she becomes aware of eyes on her. she does not know how long he has been watching and she chastises herself for letting someone creep up on her. whoever he is, he must move like the kindly man for she did not hear him approach. maybe he is the kindly man, she thinks as she lets her fingers slip off the knob and lifts her eyes to the strange face.

the face is that a smirking, handsome youth. she does not recognize the armor nor the golden horned diadem he wears. merry and her whores would have tittered. a man would only come in horns first if he had something to announce. but it is the eyes against which she narrows her own. she has never known anyone to have eyes so bright. the color reminds her of one of the animals that brought often into the docks of braavos. the sealord was said to have a great menagerie of exotic creatures. his eyes make her think of the bright emerald scales of a snake.

she has never feared snakes. ]

What is this place?

[signifies]

[ Clark has been everywhere but the library. The kitchen had a decent array of food he'd like to explore, but he was more interested in cooking it than eating it. He doesn't feel unsettled by much, but he'd been expecting at least that small personal comfort.

Picking a bedroom is a formality. He does find one in a corner with a nice view, and some uniforms in the cupboard. But he's stubborn: he doesn't feel like changing just yet. His ancestral suit is the only thing he got to bring from home, and it's the symbol that's important to him. People should see that before they see an Audentes uniform.

What makes him smile as he explores is that Lois would have an incisive comment about almost everything he sees. And she'd probably be really amused he stops in the stables. It's the farmhand in him. Clark was always fond of horses; They had personality, and they demanded respect from humans and aliens alike. He'll be drawn back here, and he wants to familiarise them with his presence.

He picks up one of the treats nearby for people to give the horses. Clark picks one and walks towards it slowly. He introduces himself to it, and talks about how much his father loved horses. When it's smelled the tips of his fingers, he offers it the treat.

He heard Arya at the doors sneaking in, but he keeps talking to the horse and petting it. ]

BELLAMY.

[wolfchild]

[ it was not her intention to stay. zokla has never cared for books. letters aren't important to someone who has never been taught them. yet she stole through the doors, wondering what was behind them…when her eyes took in the impossible rows upon rows and stacks upon stacks of books…

she has never known a library this big. she does not think another like it exists. this knowledge would please the kindly man greatly.

soon, she decided to see just how big it is. when she thinks of the castle as she has seen it from the outside, this library should not fit. half this library should not fit. it must be more sorcery. some spell to make things bigger on the inside. if she could, she would like to learn it herself. it'd be a useful thing.

during one of her walks, she saw a woman whisper a title into an orb. when she had gone, the girl approached. she bit her lip, forgetting that she should not, as she thought. finally, she whispered her own query, not expecting anything of it. the orb answered her with a location.

it took her the better part of an hour to hunt it down on her own and another ten minutes to realize it is kept up. she looks around — empty — before pulling off her boots and socks and fanning out her toes. she climbs, silent as a shadow, gripping the floor of the next row to pull herself up, her toes curling around the one her fingers abandoned.

the sound of footsteps makes her hug closer to the shelf. she can only see the top of his head as he stops before her abandoned boots. don't look up, she thinks, don't look up, don't look—

he looks up.

she almost groans.

instead, she jab a finger against her lips. be quiet! ]

[spacerhyme]

[ the doctor's also strolled into the kitchen, watching the girl sidelong as he clicks on the electric kettle. this whole set-up is self-operating, he doesn't actually need to be in here; there's probably tea out in the dining hall, at all hours. but it's the ritual of the thing. the principle, or whatever. maybe he's just wanting for something to do with his hands.

but boiling water's not a terribly engaging activity, either, and so the girl's got his attention. the fact that she's so enthralled by a sink isn't remarkable - he's a time-traveler who picks up people from an array of different eras and revels in anachronisms, he saw this sort of thing practically daily before he came here. but she's young, too. young and pre-plumbing. she's basically a fetus, kitted out like a proper recruit. alastair really is beyond desperate.

he fishes a couple teabags out of his pocket. ]

Oh, if you think that's impressive, the microwave's gonna blow your socks straight off.

[deemed]

[It would be a mistake to say that Odinson has any kind of a green thumb. No, if he's not eating or crushing them them underfoot they seldom come into contact. But like any good warrior he knows enough herb lore of which plants have leaves that make a soothing poultice for bruises. It's on that errand he's here today, sporting a fresh bruise on his jaw.

The smell of clean dirt and fresh plants will soothe anyone and the Asgardian takes a moment on entering the greenhouse to appreciate it. For all the good he's doing here, he still misses the Earth and his connection to it. But there's nothing to be done except the work that's in front of him.

In the stillness he realises he's not alone, there's a girl nearby.]

Well met, small one.

DAMIAN.

[wolfchild]

[ it's snowing.

the wind blows cold through the dark trees. firs and sentinels stand silent watch. through the trees she can see the glistening twists of the trident. the waters are the same green she remembers, though now the muddy banks and the reeds begin to crust over in ice. in the distance, smoke twists a black column into the sky, but the battle is far away for once. it's only the river, the trees, the red mud and her.

all the while snow continues to fall on the riverlands.

she spent so long trying to navigate this land. first, to reach the river. then, hoping to catch up to her mother. she hadn't known what to expect when she stepped on the pad. this recreation…it's unnerving. it's wrong. she hated so much of her time here, but the tears carve down her face and arya cannot stop them.

a wolf's howling rips her head up. a warning. she discerns movement behind her and hurriedly wipes at her face.

zokla whirls around.

the boy is around her age, in clothes like hers. but where her coat is purple, his is black. still, she can call to mind the symbol he'll be wearing. it'll be the same as the one worn now on her back. ]

What are you doing here?

[feytality]

[A girl after her own heart! Maya approves. Maya's similarly piling her plate high with various food, and she gestures to a plate of burgers (albeit a little differently than they're supposed to be made) with her fork, when she sees the young girl grabbing a bit of everything]

Here, here, try one of these. They're awesome!

[she's talking with her mouth full, too, how rude]