paixaorpg | Run aground [Active/Open]

Entry tags:

Run aground [Active/Open]

Character(s): Simon, aaaaanybody else? (you know you want to.)
Content: Simon arrives in Paixao and immediately starts looking for River. In the snow.
Setting: Muspelheim Gates, heading toward Muspelheim Station.
Time: afternoon
Warnings: none

Simon woke up without a headache. This wasn't particularly unusual, except that he must have been knocked out somehow, or else he would likely have remembered how in the 'verse he wound up lying on his back outside some kind of giant dome. Most notably, one that was planetside. As soon as he'd sat up, he realized he'd be less visible lying down, so he rolled over onto his stomach and watched the line of people assembled at what looked like some kind of checkpoint.

He scowled, trying to remember what had happened. River had gone to bed. He'd been cleaning up the contents of three or four drawers in the med bay that she'd pulled out and upended all over the place, nothing too out of the ordinary. And then... he'd woken up here. On the ground. As far as he'd known, Serenity had been days away from the nearest settlement.

Simon didn't want to think he'd been out for days. That would raise about a hundred times as many questions as it answered.

Furtively, he took a look around for any sign of the ship, or of River, and found neither. Did that mean she was still on the ship? Or had she been dumped somewhere else? Or, worst of all, was she already inside that facility, past the checkpoint? What if they'd caught her?

That thought solidified his intentions. He hadn't been sure whether to try the checkpoint and likely get arrested, or take his chances in the wilderness outside, but he couldn't see River anywhere out here. If she was inside that place, he had to try. He stood up and brushed the dry grass from his vest as he started toward the decorative gate. Even if they'd been dropped here together, she might have come to first and gone for help or something. He honestly couldn't even try to predict her.

No one in the queue seemed to mind him joining, and it moved quickly. The attendant would ask for a name, the first in line would give one, and they were sent through. They didn't even seem to be asking for photo ID or papers, which, while odd, was a stroke of luck Simon wouldn't complain about.

"Name?" the attendant asked him, not even looking up, as he reached the front of the line.

"John Jenkins," he blurted almost before she was finished.

The attendant jotted it down on a clipboard and handed him both a paper brochure and ... a hand-held computer. "Here you are, Mr. Jenkins. Welcome to Paixao, and we hope you enjoy your stay."

Simon accepted both a bit hesitantly. "Thank you," he said quickly, after a moment, then continued briskly through the gate.

The second he was inside, it got nasty; the cold hit him like a shockwave, such that it took him a few seconds to notice the ... ash? falling slowly around him. What the- What was this? (Besides ridiculous.)

So they asked your name, didn't take two seconds to verify it, handed you free Cortex access and turned you loose in a freezing-cold domed city. Madness! Simon tucked the computer under one arm and started toward the nearest public-looking building, rubbing his bare hands together in a futile attempt at keeping them warm. Once he'd made inside, he would check for any news waves on his sister. That was his plan, anyway.

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Tinker had spent quite some time in the area since walking through the gate. Her travels has served to make her wish that it had been winter in Pittsburgh when she left. Naturally, she hadn't been so lucky. She had her duster, which was a small blessing in keeping her small body protected from the biting chill. Sadly, her pointed ears were unprotected, and as such she had been going from building to building, intent on trying to keep out of the snow as much as possible. She would have thought that they would warn folk coming into this city about the weather conditions!

As she walked, Tinker spotted a man who appeared as unprepared for this weather as she, and just as out of place among the fair folk who she had seen in the buildings. He appeared to be rubbing his hands together, trying to stay warm, and Tinker couldn't help but feel bad for him. She withdrew the work gloves from her supply bag. Sometimes, it was a blessing that everyone insisted she not get her hands dirty. This seemed to be one of them.

Tinker approached the walking stranger and extended to him the gloves. They were old things, having belonged to her cousin Oilcan, and they had seen a lot of use when it came to Tinker's work. They were marked with grease and oil, but they were all she had to offer. It would be unkind of her not to offer some kind of assistance, after all. "Here," she said, "They might help."

Simon was a bit surprised at that; it wasn't every day that random people came up to you on the street to give you gloves. Kind of strange, but some people juggled geese, right? "Oh," he replied, trying to figure out how to put this. A second later he forced a quick smile. "No, that's all right. You probably... they're yours," he said, putting his hands in his pockets at the same time. She obviously needed the gloves as much as he did.

"Um." Since she'd approached him already, he might as well ask this. "This might sound kind of strange, but... where am I?" he tried. It wasn't the biggest question on his mind, but he didn't dare ask a complete stranger about River right away.

Tinker seemed a bit perplexed that her offer of goodwill had been turned down. It certainly hadn't been the response she had been expecting, though she probably shouldn't have been surprised by it. Once, a century past, she had been familiar with the darker paths a person's good intentions could take. Perhaps so many years with Windwolf had softened the edge of those memories until she needed to actually think to realise their consequences?

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I don't mind, really." She would rather have ear muffs, or something, than gloves at this point. Fingers could be tucked up in the sleeves of her duster, but her ears were exposed no matter what she did.

"I've only recently arrived, so I only know that this place is called Paixao. But I have found that the journals have maps on them. I'm sure that would be of some use to figuring such things out." And Tinker was still trying to figure out where Paixao was in relation to home.

"No, I'm sure! It's fine," Simon replied quickly. "Thanks anyway, though." He really did appreciate the offer, and his hands were getting very cold even in his pockets. But he was going inside soon enough anyway, for one thing.

So, the woman wasn't a local. She didn't know much more than he did, either. "Journals?" he asked, though it came to him a second later. "Oh, you mean these... free computers?" A map feature could save him a lot of hassle. He almost pulled his out from under his arm to check, but decided against it on account of the cold.

He glanced up at the building he'd been headed toward, then at the ... pointy-eared woman. The ears threw him off for a second, but he'd seen weirder cosmetic surgeries. "Uh, do you mind if we keep walking?" he added, gesturing up at the building and taking a tentative step toward it. "Before we both contract hypothermia, I mean."

"If you're sure," Tinker said as she tucked the gloves back into her supply pouch. There was just something about wearing her work gloves while not working that kept her from putting them on. She supposed that it had a lot to do with her longer life-span and century she had spent learning and understanding Elfin custom.

"I don't mind at all," she told him, and took pace beside him. "It would be better to converse once we get in out of the cold, I'm sure."

After all of this cold and her unprepared state, Tinker swore she was going to get Windwolf to teach her the Fire Clan magicks when she returned home. She was certain there was a spell there that would have alleviated these problems, had she known it.

... So he'd turned them down and she wasn't even going to wear them. Well, okay then. That was her prerogative. Shivering, Simon started toward the well-lit building again, not saying anything until they were safely inside with the door shut behind them. It wasn't much, but at least it was warmer in here. A fair number of other people had apparently had the same idea he had, as the station - at least, it looked like some kind of station - was already getting crowded.

He peered out through the glass pane of the door, rubbing his hands together again to get his circulation going. It was dangerously cold out there, much too cold to be walking around for long without proper insulation. Hypothermia could set in in just hours, or less.

What if River was out in that?

Fearing the worst, and momentarily forgetting the glove woman was there, Simon took out his computer and tapped it on. It'd be just plain stupid to go out in that cold again without some kind of plan.

Tinker took a look around the station as she entered with Simon. It did look like there were quite a few people within, and she noted that a lot of them were blondes. To her, it seemed strange. Even among the Elves, there wasn't such a uniformity among the people.

The young vicereine settled down onto the bench closest to where Simon still stood and drew out her own journal to look at the map. Perhaps there was some place better to go? She could really go for a sweet wine right now... And if this were a station, then there would have to be a train or T that came here, right?

"Hey, ah..." And Tinker realised that they had never introduced themselves to each other. No matter. "Perhaps we should see where this train, or whatever, goes? It's not like we've anything better to do. Though I would like to find out how long this cold spell is going to last.

"And you know, we never actually introduced ourselves..."

Simon couldn't believe his luck. He'd only had to skim the BBS for a few seconds before he found a post from River. The good news was that she was nearby and in one piece; the bad news was that, from what he could tell, she was having one of her bad days. M4, though. According to the map, that wasn't far at all... and it was right on this station's route.

He looked up from the computer as the woman with the elf ears spoke again. To be honest, he did have better things to do than explore right now, but he wasn't about to say it like that.

"You're right, we didn't," he said after a brief pause. The question was more whether they should. He and River were sort of fugitives, after all. But before he had to decide on that, he was preempted by a thunderous boom from somewhere outside. "What was that?" he exclaimed.

Tinker hadn't found anything of interest on the map, and had moved to making a journal entry, because she could. She was still trying to follow Windwolf's advice, to log her memories so that when she did lose them, she'd be able to find them again. As of this moment, it still seemed stupid. But she was an Elf, and she expected to live a very long time with her husband. And with length in life came the fading of younger memories...

When Simon responded to her comment about introductions, Tinker did honestly expect him to answer with his name. If he had actually responded with a name, she didn't hear it over the thunder that rumbled from outside. She shook her head at Simon's next comment. How did you not know what thunder was?

"That was thunder," she told him, looking outside again. "It's, ah, the sound that lightning makes when it hits something. I wonder if it's thundersnow...?"

The rain was definitely a good indication that it wasn't, but how could a weather pattern change that quickly? This wasn't Pittsburgh...

Oh, so it was just thunder. Simon had heard of thunder, sure, but weather that severe just wasn't to be found on most terraformed planets. Same generally went for snow, though he had seen it once or twice. He felt kind of dumb for not having recognized it right away.

At any rate, the thunder didn't come again, and apparently the snow had stopped coming down, too. Maybe there had been some kind of malfunction in whatever climate control they had in these domes. He couldn't think of anywhere else he'd heard of that could control the weather to that degree, but it probably wasn't impossible.

Oh, right. He was being rude - the girl he'd come in with had asked him his name, so he ought to give her something, at least. And frankly, she didn't really look like a bounty hunter, despite the gun. Just about everybody he knew nowadays carried a gun, so that wasn't so much the issue. "Sorry. I'm Simon," he finally answered. His first name was fairly common, so that probably wouldn't create a problem.

Weather had always been such a fickle thing, at least to Tinker's knowledge. Depending on where you lived, the weather pattern often shifted. There were days that had started out with thunderstorms and worked progressively downward to a blizzard. It made her wonder if they had a weather forecast here. It would most certainly be a good thing if they did. Then there would be no worries about not being prepared for the conditions outside. Surely it was something to look into later.

Tinker looked to Simon and smiled as he introduced himself. "I am called Tinker," she told him. Always, she stuck with the shortest version of her name. It was easier for everyone if she didn't introduce herself with her full name, with or without her title included. There were people, she knew, who wouldn't abbreviate it properly, so she just did it for them. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Simon."

"Likewise, uh... Tinker," Simon replied. He wondered for a second whether it was a nickname, but quickly replaced that with more important worries. He had to find River as soon as possible. And unfortunately, from what he could tell from the BBS, Jayne was not only in town, but closer to his sister than he was at the moment.

Considering that he could easily think of a hundred different ways Jayne could have been responsible for this, that was bad.

He flipped the computer shut and glanced toward the glass partition on the other side of the terminal; behind it, a train was pulling in. Right, then that was where he was going. "Well, uh..." He turned to Tinker for a second. "It's been nice talking with you, Tinker, but I, uh... have to go meet someone," he explained, pointing over his shoulder at the train platform.

Tinker smiled at Simon. She knew it to be awkward to hear her name. Most humans, and sometimes she had trouble thinking of them as such, seemed to get confused, thinking that she offered them only a nickname. Her full name, she had noticed, served to confuse them even more. After all, at first glance, she tended to still look human. Such was the benefits of wearing her hair as she did.

The young elf frowned as Simon said he was going to leave. The thought of being alone was not a comforting one, even now, and left her crestfallen.

"Simon?" she asked. "Do you mind if I come with you?"

That caught Simon a little off guard, and for a second he just blinked at her, confused. "I ... suppose not," he said eventually. Oh, heck, she looked upset. What was he supposed to do? "Just, uh..." he unconsciously scratched behind his ear. "Any, uh... any particular reason you want to...?"

Her question had come completely out of nowhere, so he had to ask... still, this was one of those times he really wished he were better at talking to girls.

Tinker was visibly relieved that she wasn't going to be left on her own. She thought for a moment, wondering if it would be wise to disclose something so personal as why she wanted to tag along. Would it matter whether or not she told?

"I don't like to be alone," she answered simply. Between the constant companionship of her First Hand and the things that had happened so long ago when she had been alone, the Elfin woman craved companions. Tinker offered a smile. "Maybe sometime I'll go into it more in depth, but that's basically it."

Why Tinker thought he needed to know that was beyond him, but... okay then. He smiled back, but only because he felt he should; it was pretty obviously not genuine. Between his worries about River, his worries in general, and now the fact that some random woman had decided to follow him around completely out of nowhere, Simon really didn't have much to smile about at the moment. He hoped it wasn't because she liked him or anything - he would have no idea how to deal with that.

The train whistle jolted him back to reality. "Uh.. right. Well, we'd better get going before it leaves, then," he said, starting toward the platform. He'd have to warn River about this; she didn't always react well to new people.

Tinker was glad that her reasoning hadn't led Simon to rescind his offer. She had no way of knowing whether or not he would, not after her comment. The Vicereine tucked her journal into her pouch and followed Simon onto the train.

"Thank you," she said, after a moment.

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Run aground [Active/Open]

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