sojournerdeep | [Location - Arrival Plaza] [Open] New Blood

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[Location - Arrival Plaza] [Open] New Blood

The smell of blood surrounds Brier as she regains consciousness in a strange room. Everything is sticky, her head hurts and it takes her a moment to realize that other parts of her should hurt as well. She opens her eyes and looks down, through the rip in the shoulder of her shirt and jacket, but where there was a wound before she passed out, now there is none. Exploration of her gut yields the same conclusion. Nothing there but a scar.

She scans the room and notes the lack of windows and doors. Fear stirs her stomach - and then she hears the voice, welcoming her.

- - -

Brier slides the comm unit into a pocket, though she still doesn’t feel quite comfortable with the device and stands, heading for the door.

As Brier steps out, into the corridor, she rubs her hands on the legs of her uniform, trying to reduce the stickiness. It doesn’t help. Half to mostly dried blood is everywhere on her uniform jacket and the shirt, undergarments and skin underneath. It’s on her arms, her hands, and a small smear is on her head, where she put a hand to the pain there.

She lingers at the door for a moment, when she sees there are others outside, embarrassed by the state of herself. But it isn’t as if she can hide in the starkly decorated, windowless room forever. She steps outside and walks into the plaza, stareing at the surroundings with wide eyes.

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Brier tilts her head, frowning. "I was injured before I came. I don't exactly know how it is I arrived. I fainted."

"Do…you want to hear? I don't imagine it is a good thing to talk about while eating. But I can explain."

"Were you doing something important?" she asks him. He looks important to her. "Do you know how we got here?"

She smiles at Bear. "Good boy…" she whispers.

Finch leans an elbow on the counter and carefully places his chin in his hand to face the young woman (girl, he's tempted to think) -- carefully, because what would be a casual posture from anyone else is a stiff, awkward thing for him. "Injured?

"I would, yes-- if you don't mind explaining. It might be meaningful, if there's some-- common thread in all this."

He smiles a faint toothache smile at the idea he was doing something important. "Walking my dog. And no, I'm afraid I have no idea.

"He likes to be scratched on his chest."

Brier slides out of the chair and lowers herself to the floor, reaching to scratch the dog’s chest, smiling. Her expression sobers as she looks back at Finch.

”I was in a fight.”　She says. She looks down at the hole in her shirt. "He was better than me. We both knew it. We both knew it was a fight I couldn't win, but I had to. Otherwise he would have..." She trails off, her hand on Bear stilling.

"He stabbed me. In the shoulder. And then, when I tried to keep my feet, in the gut. I fell, then. There was so much blood I was sure I was dying..."

She stands and sits on the chair, not meeting the man's eyes. "Then I woke up here, and the wound was gone."

"I am not sure what kind of common thread there could be, there, but I am not always very smart."

Oh, Bear is very happy you're joining him down here, friendly human! Have some face licking.

"Bear," Finch scolds absently, the scolding not even making it into his tone as he listens, brows drawn together. He looks rather pale-faced at the mention of stabbing, and he is silent for a handful of seconds in the wake of Brier's soft concluding assessment.

He hesitates a moment, then asks cautiously, "Are you... religious at all? This would seem to qualify as a near-death experience for you."

Though not for him, and Finch rubs his hand absently back and forth on the counter, thinking.

Brier nods, quietly. After a moment she agrees aloud "Yes. A near death experience."

She bites her lip and casts about for a change in subject "The place where you are from, does it have...spaceships?"

"Ah, well..." Finch twists a little on the stool, peering out at what can be seen of the landscape.

"Sort of. We have--" he pauses, as he registers Brier's tech level, judging by her clothes at least, may be well back of his own, hang on, reassess...

"...we have vehicles that can leave the earth," he says carefully, "and fly up in the stars, and that's the literal definition of a 'space ship,' but it's nothing at all like all of this."

Finch tries for a game, reassuring smile. "I don't know how much you know about boats? If you ever made a toy boat with a leaf and a twig, and then compared that with a real ship that carries passengers and cargo... I think that's about what my 'space-ship' is compared to this place.

"I'm guessing you don't have spaceships where you're from?"

Brier smiles, very slightly and shakes her head. "No. We don't have spaceships. Even the leaf-and-twig kind."

She rubs her arms and says, carefully, "I am worried. I have a lot of questions and I am not sure I can bring myself to bother Norma. Do you have any idea where we are supposed to go to sleep?"

"I would think that worry is a very valid reaction to this place," Finch says drily. "I'm rather worried myself, so we can be worried together, if you like."

He fusses a bit with Bear's collar, then glances up at the question. "I'm... from what I've gathered, you simply find a room you might like and, well, appropriate it. Squatter's rights, haha. There doesn't seem to be rent, or hotels, or anything of the sort. So... just, um, select something that makes you feel safe, I suppose."

Harold's face reflects that he's somewhat aware of the absurdity of what he's saying. He gamely tries for a bit more:

"Perhaps you might find something close to-- Norma's-- restaurant. That way there'd be someone close at hand if you had problems. Did you get something like this when you arrived?" he asks, pulling out a very sleek little smartphone from his pocket.

Brier listens. She's so tired. So very tired, after everything with Xanti. It feels like it was a million years ago from were she is sitting, in this strange alien place, but she can still feel, and smell the sticky blood on her undershirt.

She nods and takes out her device. "I am not sure just how to work it. It talked to me a little though. Before."

"I am not sure anywhere here would make me feel very safe, but it seems like a lot of people settle near here. If I can go anywhere, it might be smart to go further.

"I wonder if they have b..." she trails off before saying the word 'baths'. As alone and unsure as she feels there are probably lines she shouldn't cross discussing with a strange man.

To Finch's eyes, the device Brier has is clunky and primitive-looking, and he's privately glad his own is the smart little thing it is-- but he says nothing of that, of course. Instead he offers a smile that he tries to make reassuring. It feels rusty on his face-- he's still reeling from being whisked here, and from the week he'd had before here-- but there is nothing like the crisis of another person to distract you from your own griefs. That's a motto that Finch has wholeheartedly been living the last few years.

"I do know a little about machines like this," he says carefully, "if you'd like me to try and help you figure out how to use it?

"Would you find it easier if you could use it by talking to it, and if it talked to you?"

"Do you think it's important? Do you think I will need to go on using it?"

She offers it too him. "I am not sure I would ever be able to use it properly on my own. But being able to talk to it might help."

"...yee-ees, I think you should.... try and get the hang of it."

Finch clears his throat. How does one express the significance, the usefulness, of instantaneous communication to someone who's never had it at their fingertips? Hmmn.

"If you should wind up hurt or lost," he says carefully, "you could use this to call someone else-- myself, or Norma, for instance. Even if just for a safeguard against, say, falling and wrenching your ankle, it's worth learning how to use, I'd think.

Finch takes the device, starting to maneuver through the screens with only a moment's orientation as to her item's particular interface.

"If you think so." Brier says. "I'll do my best."

"Thank you. For your help." She sighs, leaning on her hand. "I'm very sorry, but I think I may need to go find a place to lie down. Mr. Finch. When you are finished."

Finch offers her a sympathetic smile that is a little weary in its own right. "I completely understand. I'll try to make this quick."

Fortunately, the interface is simple enough by Finch's standards. He elicits a few voice commands from Brier to calibrate things, but in short order he's passing the phone back to her, after explaining how to send out messages.

"Get some rest, alright, miss Brier?"

Brier nods and smiles as she stands up, device in hand. She gathers her bloody jacket and heads off to find a place to sleep

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[Location - Arrival Plaza] [Open] New Blood

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