paixaorpg | Not a Proper Rescue [Active]

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Not a Proper Rescue [Active]

Character(s): Elizabeth Swann, open to all
Content: Elizabeth Swann arrives in Paixao
Setting: Inside Joutenheim Gate
Time: Evening
Warnings: None

Elizabeth woke to the unfamiliar sensation of cool stone pressed to her cheek. Not the grainy shift of sand or the uncomfortable tickle of brittle grass. She opened her eyes to dusky darkness at felt at once alarmed.

She recalled building a fire while Jack mumbled drunkenly in his sleep. Stacking and burning barrels, watching white smoke spiral into the sky like a fantastic writhing snake. She’d only waited an hour after Jack had fallen asleep, to be safe, before she began hauling crates out of the rumrunners’ cache. It took her until mid-morning to build a sizeable flame, one the Royal Navy would surely see. By then she was exhausted, and surrendered to the tired tug of her muscles. She sat down for a moment, just a little nap before Jack woke up and would probably try to kill her, before the Navy would come and they’d be off this wretched island, before she could save Will…

The sky was dark now, a gauzy purple, and she couldn’t feel the salty scent of the sea clogging her nose. She had overslept. But as Elizabeth’s vision cleared and the world came into sharper focus, she realized much more was amiss than that.

She had fallen asleep on the beach, not far from Jack. Now she couldn’t see him, nor the sand or the sea. She couldn’t hear the crackle of a bonfire or the whisper of the waves. She felt panic close its skeletal hand around her throat as she scrambled to her feet and looked around.

Elizabeth was standing outside a gate, with stone giants standing stalwart on either side. Their raised clubs crossed over the top of the large doors. Elizabeth spun, hoping to find the ocean at her back, but it was nowhere to be seen. Feeling ill, and knowing she was much too conscious to be dreaming, she rushed up to the gate. A man stood to the side, who appeared not to notice her until she was standing directly in front of him.

His eyes were clear blue, the eerie color of a shark infested reef. In Port Royal, they might have frightened her – but now, after encountering living corpses and evading death multiple times, she was merely a bit unnerved.

“Where am I?” she asked. “Where is Jack?”

The man replied in an unnaturally pleasant voice – not disinterested or bored, merely automatic, as if he were made to say this one phrase rather than merely instructed to, “Name, please.”

If there was anything Elizabeth had learned while in the company of Captain Barbossa, it was that names were a dangerous business and you were almost always better off without one. She also did not appreciate her question being rebuffed. More insistently, she asked, “Jack Sparrow? We were deserted on an island, and I built a signal fire. I must have fallen asleep.” It occurred to her that if she had been taken, Jack must have too, and certainly he knew where they were. He had been more places than Elizabeth had read about or even heard of. “Where is Jack?”

“If you’re looking for your friend, you should try the electronic journal network,” he said smoothly, and handed her a small, sleek metal object. “Welcome to Paixao, miss. Please enjoy your stay.”

She was about to grab him by the collar when the gates yawned open, revealing a city inside. As the crack grew, Elizabeth saw more buildings, plants… even people. She glanced back at the man who’d welcomed her, and he already seemed to have forgotten her. Clearly he was a bit mad – but perhaps she could find someone inside who could direct her to Jack, or more preferably a member of the Royal Navy.

Elizabeth entered hastily. The more people she saw, the more aware she became that she was wearing the chemise Barbossa had left her in upon reclaiming the burgundy dress. However, most of the passersby seemed not to notice – they had the same dreamy disassociation as the man at the gate.

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Lara had been wandering around the city, getting herself reacquainted. Sonic was supposed to let her know when the two of them were to be going back to the church for further investigation (and Lara felt excited anticipation well up in her again, as only the potential of discovery could do), and she hadn't quite felt like remaining in her condominium at the thought of adventure. She was wearing jeans, her normal boots, and a black tank top, not really expecting a call to go adventuring right then. She had looked about the city, and aside from the wall of thorns surrounding city hall (and the real flowers decorating buildings that seemed to have been missing before, not to mention that some buildings simply weren't there any longer), nothing seemed too out of place.

Nevertheless, it was suspicious to Lara, so she took down notes in the traditional journal she was carrying along with some of the things she remembered from the previous church visit. It was when she looked around again, however, that she noticed the completely lost looking young woman who was only dressed in a chemise. "Excuse me," the archaeologist asked, approaching her, "have you only just arrived? You seem lost." Normally, Lara would have simply left the girl alone, but this place was unusual to the extreme. Perhaps she could learn something more in this situation.

Elizabeth started at the sound of a voice, something completely lucid and solid she thought she could put stock in. She turned to see a woman dressed in men’s clothing the likes of which Elizabeth had never seen before.

“Arrived?” Elizabeth asked, feeling slightly hysterical and more than annoyed. “Arrived bloody where? I was on an island in the middle of the Caribbean, stranded, and I wake up here – presumably miles from any mass of water!” Elizabeth balled her fists at her side and stared hard at the ground, as if waiting for it to produce an explanation. She wasn’t being fair. This woman was the only helpful or useful-looking person around. She probably had nothing to do with the strange abduction Elizabeth had undergone. Her accent was also familiar, the first earthly thing Elizabeth had encountered.

A frustrated, strained sigh swilled out of her and she tried to relax. “I lit a signal fire, for the Royal Navy. I was stranded on an island with Captain Jack Sparrow, the pirate. I lay down for a nap, and I must have fallen asleep. And then I woke up here.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, suddenly feeling exposed. “I should never have closed my eyes.”

So this one was a new arrival. Her suspicions confirmed, Lara let the woman talk before replying in a calm, even tone -the closest to soothing she could muster. "You're in the city of Paixao," she began, "and a lot of people have been drawn here." From different worlds and different times, judging by what the other was saying - the Royal Navy, in particular, got Lara interested, though she didn't say anything about it (at least for the moment). The last thing this latest arrival needed was to learn that this was a place where several worlds collided.

"I'm afraid I've never heard of a Captain Jack Sparrow," Lara continued, "but I've woken up here, too." She wondered if some strange set of abductions was taking place.

Elizabeth felt a sickening imbalance in her gut. “Your accent is familiar. Are you from Britain? Or the British colonies?”

She glanced at the woman again, from head to toe, and held any reservations she had about her attire to herself. At least the woman was wearing more than undergarments… or so Elizabeth assumed.

“And your clothes,” she said. “Where did you get them?”

She held in a curse when she remembered she was stranded with nothing but a chemise and a half-insane scoundrel. She was penniless, without even jewelry to barter with. Worrying her bottom lip, Elizabeth held off hopelessness and looked at the buildings around her. They appeared old, and as far as she could tell there was little security. Perhaps she could steal something… Some of the people passing, all with the same blond hair and unnerving blue eyes, didn’t seem too concerned about their purses.

Elizabeth didn’t support thievery, but times were desperate.

Lara raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I am British," she replied, her suspicions about the woman confirmed. "I'm Lara Croft, of the Abbingdon estates." Perhaps there was a chance that the other would recognize her surname; perhaps one of Lara's own ancestors had known her - especially as it was incredibly clear by now that the stranger was not from Lara's own time. Still, Lara continued to neglect bringing it up - it looked as if the poor woman had had quite enough surprises for the moment.

She chuckled. "I got these clothes from a shop in the city," and upon noticing the nervous look on the other's face, "and I paid with these." She plucked a few golden leaves from a nearby tree and held them out to Elizabeth, offering them. "Nearly everything you see around here is used as currency."

She took the leaves from Lara, turning them over in her hands. They glinted, their lines perfectly etched and their stems smooth as marble. They were clearly the work of a master craftsman, and would have cost more than most families in Port Royal could ever dream of affording… and here they just grew on trees?

Elizabeth tried to blink away her confusion and just absorb the information without spitting it back out. Searching for logic in this madness would only make her more frustrated. What was important now was finding a way back to Isla de Muerta, after acquiring a few supplies.

“Abbingdon,” she repeated, tearing her eyes away from the leaves. “I haven’t been myself, but the name is certainly familiar. My mother had friends there when she was younger.”

Realizing her impoliteness, she hastily curtsied. “How rude of me! My name is Elizabeth Swann. My father is Weatherby Swann, governor of Port Royal, a British colony in the Caribbean.”

She plucked a few more leaves from the tree, until her hands couldn’t hold anymore. “Would you mind showing me where I can buy some clothes? I feel rather indecent like this. It didn’t seem important on a deserted island, but now…”

"Really?" Lara replied, smiling a little. She would have to look through her family's records when she got back, in case Elizabeth's family had known Lara's own ancestors. "Perhaps our families knew each other. I'm afraid I'm away on business quite a lot, however." 'Business,' of course, generally meaning 'find an ancient death trap somewhere and walk right through the middle of it in able to obtain some obscure treasure'.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Swann," the archaeologist said. SHe didn't curtsey or bow, but she did smile again. "I don't mind at all. There's a store not too far from here that sells clothing; I'll be happy to escort you there." Especially as the store, Auntie Unde's, wasn't so far from the Nifleheim gate, where she was supposed to be meeting Sonic. "You were on a deserted island? That sounds rather awful; perhaps this place is a nice change, then."

Elizabeth shrugged, falling into step with Lara, keeping her arms firmly braced over her chest. “The scenery was nice, the company was not. I should like to introduce you to Jack, simply to see his face when he discovers someone’s not heard of him.”

She did not know Jack very well and she didn’t have the highest opinion of him, but he was crucial if she were ever going to find Isla de Muerta. Barbossa had kept her locked in the galley on their voyage there – Elizabeth could identify no landmarks, no easts or wests. She had no way of returning without Jack’s help. Telling him that would be torture in itself.

“Is there a reason this place… Paixao, exists?” Elizabeth asked, glancing around with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “The name is Portuguese, isn’t it? But the architecture suggests otherwise. What continent are we on?”

Lara chuckled. "One of those egotistical kinds, I take it?" She'd been around those kinds before, mostly enemies - Rutland, in fact, came to mind. "I've been to the Caribbean, though. It's really quite lovely." If nothing else, at least they could talk about that while they walked - Elizabeth did seem rather distressed by her situation, not that Lara blamed her. She wondered, though, if this "Jack" was even around here; she'd never heard of anyone by that name in the short time she'd been here thus far.

"I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that, but I fully intend on finding that out," came the reply. "Paixao is Portuguese, but it seems to be rather Victorian in contrast." She shook her head. "There's no sign of which continent we're on, or even if we are - this entire isle seems to be of the 'uncharted' kind. I've certainly never seen it on any map back home."

The nearest rain station was several meters from here, but it would stop relatively near Auntie Unde's. "I hope you don't mind walking; it's quite a way from here."

Elizabeth sighed. She was sick of uncharted waters and islands that couldn’t be found except by those who knew where to find them. She had longed for adventure all her life, but things were rapidly spiraling out of control. Undead pirates, she could handle. Misplaced Portuguese states, she was having trouble. Some sort of connection between the two would put her at ease.

“So there are others like us,” she said, deliberating. “How many? I assume the locals are the ones with blond hair and blue eyes. Are they always so… placid?”

Lara seemed unusually intelligent and driven for a woman, something Elizabeth was drawn to. It also made her optimistic to look at Lara’s hand and not see a wedding band there – to know that sometime in the future, women were not cultured to be meek and married off. But then, perhaps Lara was a widow. Somehow she didn’t seem the type.

If there was a way back to Elizabeth’s time, someone like Lara might be able to help her find it.

"So far," came the answer, "there are several of us - too many to count. And," here Lara's voice lowered discreetly, "there are also several unpleasant people about, under the apparent name of the Organization. Apparently, they're dressed all in black, though I haven't seen any of them so far. You'd do well to avoid them." Lara remembered her unpleasant encounter with those strange grey shadows when she had first arrived - her arm was still bandaged where one of their group had clawed her and she hadn't bothered to go to the hospital, as no ill-effects, aside from the pain and bleeding that had initially resulted, been felt.

"As for the locals," the archaeologist continued, "they're all like this, and not much help either. They are pleasant enough, at least, as long as you don't mention going outside. They seem rather afraid of it, as a matter of fact." That was certainly confusing to Lara, who couldn't see herself staying at home her entire life, much less refusing to go outside.

[ooc: Lara didn't actually tell Elizabeth about the differing timelines, but what the hell, let's roll with it. 8D Elizabeth might have figured it out on her own.]

Unpleasant people dressed in black? That didn’t sound quite as ominous as undead pirates, but Elizabeth took heed nonetheless. Why was it that misfortune and villainy seemed to be following her everywhere recently? Her life had been so uneventful for the past nineteen-or-so years. At first, she relished the danger and excitement, and though it still sent the thrill of misplaced excitement through her, she was chagrined to know there was so much wrongdoing in the world. Port Royal had sheltered her far too much, allowed her to be content and separated from a reality whose harshness far exceeded corsets and marriage. The more Elizabeth discovered about the world, the more she wanted to play a hand in changing it. And here, where women could walk around unaccompanied, dressed in men’s clothing no less… It seemed a suitable place to start.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, the words all but falling out of her mouth. “And this… Organization. Do you think it has anything to do with the appearances?” Elizabeth glanced around at the people passing – locals, whose gazes skated over her as if she were part of the scenery.

Thus far, Lara's only experiences with the Organization was because of the woman called Larxene, who had apparently sent those strange shadows after her. For no reason, even, and the scant wounds the Englishwoman had received still ached. Even so, she had rather enjoyed the thrill of life or death - she always had. And, judging by the gleam in her companion's eye, she was enjoying it as well.

"Unless you can fight," the adventurer replied, giving Elizabeth an appraising look, "there's not much you can do." Save for staying out of the way, but somehow Lara doubted saying that would go over well. "And they might be, but we have no real way of knowing just yet." Perhaps someone else knew, but Lara had been too busy researching to really look into the Organization. She wanted to know more about her surroundings before diving in.

Even so, as she had told ZIp recently, waiting was for the patient.

Memories on the fight aboard the Dauntless flickered in her mind. The thrill of firing a musket, swords clashing around her, the air erupting with gunpowder and cannon fire. Her heart had raced with purpose; she had relished the experience.

“I’m resourceful,” she said simply. “Is there any place to buy weapons?” She absently plucked leaves from overhanging branches as they walked.

Paixao sounded intimidating but it held the allure of being new and unknown, an undiscovered land to Elizabeth rife with possibility and danger – two things she had never been opposed to, even when she was young. In fact, sometimes she even invited trouble. Her journeys over the sea stripped her of most of her fear. Elizabeth didn’t realize it, but she was becoming more of a pirate every day. Even stranded without a sea, that feeling didn’t vanish.

[ooc: sorry for the heinously late tag!]

Lara raised an eyebrow. "Are you? Then perhaps you can be of help to some of the people here." Really, Lara didn't particularly care about the citizens; they all seemed so blank that Lara doubted that they were even alive. "There is; it's called Folio's, and it has quite the impressive selection of weaponry." And, for some odd reason, a lot of stuffed animals.

She decided that she would escort Elizabeth to the shop and make sure she would be alright, but the archaeologist hadn't the time to watch every person who came through that door. There was exploring to be done, and although Lara wasn't showing it, she was impatient to get back to it.

“Thank you for all your help,” Elizabeth said. She felt truly fortunate to have run into Lara. How would her arrival have been if they hadn’t met? Surely Elizabeth would have found someone helpful eventually, but she wasn’t certain she could have found someone as frank as Lara.

“If new people are arriving all the time, it shouldn’t be hard to find a map and a place to live,” she thought aloud. It hadn’t occurred to her until then that Lara may have been walking by with a purpose in mind, that purpose not being to escort a lost woman around. Elizabeth didn’t have her bearings quite yet, but she had her wits about her. This place couldn’t be worse than a deserted island, at any rate.

"You're quite welcome," Lara replied with a nod. "I know that arriving here seems rather strange, at first." Nevertheless, Maleficent and company aside, the Englishwoman was rather enjoying her time here. There was so much to do, and Lara had the feeling she'd be busy for quite a while.

"It's not too hard," she explained. "There's a map on your journal and there are plenty of lovely places to live." She got out her own journal to demonstrate. "I'm sure you can find something to your liking." She smiled a the younger woman reassuringly. It wasn't normally like Lara to do something like this, but what was the harm? They were going in the direction she needed to be in order to meet Sonic anyway, and Lara had been enjoying the conversation. The train station was coming up quickly, too, and the train would be pulling in shortly, judging by the time.

[ooc: Fade out time? :o]

Journal? Elizabeth looked at the device in her hand. It didn’t resemble any sort of journal she’d ever seen, but many things in Paixao were new. There might be other people from her time here – perhaps she could use this to find someone she knew.

The train station was not too crowded. Elizabeth didn’t think any of the locals would even mind if they were shoved aside and missed their departure. She doubted she’d ever grow acclimatized to their impassiveness. Suddenly the ground started to growl, and there was the mechanic gnawing of a train rattling along the tracks.

After her talk with Lara, Elizabeth felt considerably less lost – even capable in these new, strangely alien surroundings. “Thank you again,” she said, offering Lara a smile, and hoping they’d meet in the future.

[ooc: totally lame last tag is totally lame. fade out time! we can end it here or you can tag again if there's something else needs saying.]

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Not a Proper Rescue [Active]

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