abraxaslogs | Some days I look in mirrors

Entry tags:

Some days I look in mirrors

Who: Claire Fraser, ota and closed starters
When: October log
Where: Solvunn, Nocwich, the Horizon
Notes: I went with handwaving Claire's finished home, it's been too long now, BUT if your character would've helped then they did! ~~also please ignore the fact that I accidentally tagged this with Adora.~~
Warnings: None so far, will edit if needed. And brackets, prose - go with your heart.

𝑆𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑢𝑛𝑛

[ Claire's new home is tucked just short of the woods. Her gratitude for the help she received has been expressed in simple but filling meals, baked goods, doctoring, and helping with most chores. She's realized with a home of her own she must be settling, but she tells herself it's more to have her own space and feel comfortable. The home is two stories with her small bedroom upstairs that contains the space she works and spends the most of her time. One of the walls is completely plant-filled, and somewhere nestled in comfortably, is her new lizard. The downstairs has a kitchen with a hearth, and a built-in nook to sit and eat on one side. With a small sitting area made up of donated furniture, the other side of the downstairs is for seeing anyone who needs intense care and looking after, or drop-ins needing some sort of treatment.

Anyone dropping in is welcome and will not only be assaulted by plants and wildflowers in abundance, but bees will buzz lazily and drunk on nectar before flying back to their homes. They're tucked back just a bit, but the bee houses, lovingly painted by Nanaue, are bright and visible. She's left the back wall on the bottom floor windowless so that her friend can paint to his heart's content. When visitors arrive, the door is opened with a smile in greeting, able to see who's approaching from the front window.

Even though she has her own home now, she still makes sure to contribute, helping with cooking communal meals which helps her meet newcomers, and taking care of the animals which reminds her of Jamie. It all keeps her busy, and she can't say she doesn't like it. She still visits with the local Solvunnites she's grown fond of, and there are a few children she plays with outside with no shame in how silly she looks. ]

(𝑡ℎ𝑒) 𝐻𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑜𝑛

[ Gone is Lallybroch from Claire's domain. She'd been thinking of changing it anyway, but something very large managed to take out most of it during the rifts. That makes it easier to change things, though it's still rustic and full of flora. There's still plenty of space for her to entertain outside, and around back is where anyone can come for human anatomy lessons. Separate from that, there's a garden and greenhouse so that she can both learn and teach about different plants. It's a place for her experiment too, trying out her magic without accidentally causing damage to real plants in her home.

Anyone heading inside will be met with comfortable warmth, more plants, and a gray cat that doesn't seem bothered by much. There's always a setup for tea or coffee and something stronger if wanted, along with furniture meant for sinking into a good book.

She does like to explore other's domains, but if it seems closed off, she won't poke around...much. ]

𝑁𝑜𝑐𝑤𝑖𝑐ℎ

[ Claire has come to enjoy the walk to the portal, and if anyone happens to be heading out as well, they're happy to join her. She's dressed for the cooler air, pendant hanging just below her throat and basket in hand. In the square, she can be found purchasing things like flour and other cooking items for her own simple kitchen. Claire even picks up a trinket or two for friends, stowing different things beneath her goods in case she happens upon someone. Because she's rubbish at knitting, she can also be found weaving in and out of different shops to browse mittens and cowls.

When she rests the first time at mid-day, it's near the stage with a drink in hand. Every now and then she looks around the crowd as if searching for someone and in truth, she is. This is her only chance to look for Jamie or Bree, and she takes it each and every month. Eventually, she continues her day and when she's ready for supper, slips into an establishment, finding a seat at a table that could fit two. And a lucky thing too, as she's managed to come in at the height of mealtime, apparently. Anyone is free to join her.

With her basket on the ground between her right foot and the wall, she sits back and thinks of a friend or two she wouldn't mind joining her, almost feeling as though they're near, while leisurely eating her meal.* It only makes her think that she must check up on others soon, especially those she hasn't spoken to since the rifts. ]

[ *ooc note: Claire is able to determine someone's location to her within about 120 yards. (Think the length of an American football field), so if you want her to be surprised because she was literally just thinking you were on your way, lmk in the subject! ]

𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑑

[ If none of these work, please feel free to whip up a starter! We can plot on discord @ lifewasawillow or PM. My plotting comment from the last CR meme can be found here. If I owe you a starter and I haven't poked you, please poke me! ]

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Kelson was still trying to get used to Nocwich. He liked the idea, neutral territory and all that. He understood the different factions, but, while magic was not something that was in any way foreign to him, such creatures were. And then there was the whole night time thing. It just seemed unnatural. Probably odd for someone who had blotted out the sun himself once. But, the young king was a hypocrite. And of course, a teenager.

He had poked around shops half heartedly, but mostly kept an eye out for anyone he might know from home, his mind and eyes casting wearily about every now and then. He hadn't expected to see anyone in Thorne. If they had any control over who they summoned -- and that, Kelson thought, was iffy at best-- he doubted they'd try anyone else from home. He hadn't exactly been playing nice. That didn't mean that the other territories wouldn't have better luck.

Ducking in to find a free table around mealtime, which seemed to be in rather short supply, he found one near a woman. She looked around the age of his own mother, or a perhaps little older? It was hard to tell, his own mother looked far older than she actually was. He gave her a slight nod and indicated at the empty seat.

"Is anyone sitting here?"

He hoped he wasn't interrupting, which, to be quite honest, was a bit of a foreign concept for him. It was hard to interrupt when you were usually the center of attention. He gave her an awkward smile, looking around in case he needed to find another seat.

His accent was not entirely unlike hers, although tinged with a bit of welsh, his black hair pulled back in a four strand braid doubled back in on itself.

I smell...coffee.

( that's not exactly what had brought him into this horizon but he can't deny the way the smell draws him closer. it feels like it's been some time since he's had a really good cup of coffee, horizon or not.

he can hear claire's heartbeat and knows that he's in the realm he wants to be in but he still stops short of making himself at home. )

Good coffee, even.

One of the most beneficial consequences of her upbringing has been being one to new experiences and new people, no matter where she is. The young man is greeted with a warm smile, and she gestures at the seat across from her.

"Please, feel free. I'm shocked no one asked prior to you, it's pretty full." Glancing him over, he seems to be about Brianna's age, she would peg him as a student, but appearances can be deceiving, she's learned. She also realizes they've never met, or at least, not in person that she can remember. Who knows about the messages in her mind, she can hardly keep track sometimes.

"My name is Claire, so you know who you're sitting down with." She's learned not everyone enjoys (or even understands) shaking hands, so she simply nods her head in greeting, smile still in place.

[ Claire laughs, the sound coming from just inside the doorway. ]

After years of hospital coffee, I think I deserve to treat myself. This is a French roast I haven't had in centuries. Come on in, would you like a cup?

[ She loves that the Horizon can give her this small taste of the only good part of France: mornings in bed whenever Jamie could afford it. She hadn't needed servants, and she will never have them again, but damn if it hadn't felt good to be served coffee in bed while lounging around pregnant. ]

I don't think I've ever had a French roast before. I'm sure some of the shops serve it in New York but I always went with terrible courthouse coffee or something from a vendor on the corner of the street.

( so yes, he thinks he'd like some. he steps in closer, finding his way with a hand out in front of him. )

Hospital coffee is probably on the same level as courthouse coffee.

[ continued from ]

[ Claire has been sized up by men in two different centuries and now on two different planets. It always feels the same to her, but she's learned to keep the annoyance inside; especially with a man who seems to be from a time much further back than the 18th century, if she had to judge based on the clothing. Leaning over this time, she reaches into her kit and pulls out a transparent bag that's stitched closed and a jar which she unscrews the lid of. ]

I'll scrape out whatever dead tissue that's already forming with a small blade before resetting the bone. Then I'll stitch the wound closed, spread a salve over it and wrap it loosely. You'll need to let me visit every three days or so to clean and rebandage.

[ Wondering if this will be enough of an explanation, she holds out both objects for him to look over, not that it's much. The salve is honey-based with aloe vera and something close to marshmallow root for the inflammation and antibacterial properties. She wants to let him see everything so that he'll know what to expect. ]

We have medicines that you can swallow for the pain, though there is a magical healer I trust with my own life who would have all of this done within a day, no need for me.

[ She's speaking of Michael, one of the most solid men she's met since she's arrived. Well. Man-shaped person. In any case, she offers a self-deprecating smile, maybe to ease whatever tension he may feel, or to show she isn't completely high-strung. She truly does have his best interest in mind, and that includes making sure both options are on the table. ]

I'm Claire, and this is what I do. What I have done, my entire life.

( Scrape, set, stitch, salve. While none of those words sound like a fucking cuddle, they also don't sound like burn, sear, cauterize. Whether she gives him whatever their version of Milk of the Poppy is or not, he doesn't give a shit. Asleep, awake, he doesn't want a new burn marring his flesh. He doesn't want to imagine the phantom smell of his own skin burning, he doesn't want to feel the tug and the pull of an ugly, ridged new brand. He'd rather the bone set bloody sideways and walk with a limp for the rest of his life.

He barely so much as glances at the knife or the ointment. Never mind the pain, he doesn't care about that. He can all but guarantee he's had worse.

When he speaks again, it's firm and decisive. )

Fuck magic, fuck the healer. If you're going to do it, do it.

( He's conceding. That doesn't necessarily mean he's going to be gracious about it.

Just tell him where and when. Here, now, on a stump? A place where she works, her house, or the shotty little apartment some poor unfortunate locals are letting him sleep at?

Dimly, distantly, the name gets filed away: Claire. )

[ She can't help but let out a bark of a laugh in amusement. She's so glad some words seem to cross time and worlds. ]

Well, I'm not going to do it right fucking here. Would you like to finish what you're doing?

[ It's important that they get this taken care of as soon as possible, but they can wait until tomorrow if he'd rather. She puts the lid back onto the salve and crouches again to put everything back together in her kit before closing it. Her curiosity about the man is certainly piqued, she wouldn't mind actually talking to him, and she glances up at him again. ]

You can message me when you're done, has anyone shown you how that works?

( I'm not going to do it right fucking here — unbidden, a rush of amusement flows through him. It doesn't make it so far as his expression, not in any way a stranger might be able to glean probably, but he feels it all the same. The mouth on her, on someone who presents in countenance and learning like a highborn Lady.

He takes the liberty of yanking his own trouser leg back down again, in the most put-upon manner he can muster, like it's a mighty inconvenience. )

Aye. ( He grunts the affirmative. ) That Deaf cunt had a bloody good time springing that on me. Wouldn't shut up after.

( Which is a terribly rude and offensive way to refer to Wrench, but believe it or not, Sandor actually likes Wrench. A little. As much as he likes anyone. Not that he'll admit it.

Eventually: )

Tomorrow, then.

( He'll get good and drunk tonight to prepare for it, which is certainly advisable and not likely to come back to bite him in the morning. )

[ The space is nice and open, and once the kettle is down, Claire makes her way to Matt, taking his arm to walk with him back to the kitchen table. ]

Courthouse coffee, for some reason I would've thought that better. I have no idea what I'm basing that on other than my imagination telling me fancy lawyers would never go for awful coffee.

[ She chuckles, and once he's sitting, she puts a plate of butter cookies in front of him while the coffee percolates. ]

I know I could have the coffee done instantly, but I like the way it seems when the roast blooms. I think that might be more effective at waking me up than the actual caffeine at this point.

[ Eddie is a born performer. Unfortunately, Solvunn offers far few opportunities to make that part of himself known (even if everyone knows anyway), so Nocwich has quickly become a common hangout spot for him. He can typically be found on street corners, but he’s been known to grab the stage for himself when local performers

He foregoes the stairs entirely. Guitar slung over his shoulder, he hoists himself and the instrument up onto the stage and sits, legs dangling over the edge as he begin to pluck out an old blues rift and adjusts his tuning. Never let it be said that his tastes aren’t well rounded. ]

Hey!

[ He catches sight of Claire and calls out to her with a grin. Whatever’s happened since their last conversation, it appears that at least some of the weight that had settled onto his shoulder has lifted. Things aren’t necessarily better. No problem has been solved, but talking about it has ultimately been a relief, and Steve reminding him that nothing is impossible here has helped immensely. ]

Looking for someone? It’s me, isn’t it?

[ He's back to his old jokes, at least. ]

[ "the neighbors lost their hives to a badger last month, and i need to freshen up the shrine, lad. run along to the new house belonging to the lady healer—she's got new bees i hear—and see if ye can't earn a half pound of fresh comb haulin' wood for her, so we'll have a blessing in time for the new moon. maybe get yerself some to eat and walk with, so ye sweeten up by the time yer back" his host tells dan heng in the morning, after he wakes and climbs down from the loft to help her haul water for the day. as soon as that is done, his host ushers him out the door with waxed sheets of muslin to wrap the offering in before bringing it back to the house, and directs him down the road, towards the woods.

she didn't even give him time to grab his sheaf of notes and his pencils, just in case he found something worth recording. it's not looking like a good day for dan heng, and he sighs before setting out down the path towards the woods with a loping stride. the sooner he finishes this task, the sooner he can go do his own: harvesting medicinal herbs to sell for cash. ]

Excuse me... [ he pauses just at the door when it opens to him, fine brows furrowed as he peers inside at the clinical part of claire's house. ] Miss Auin down the road said you be willing to trade chores for fresh honeycomb for her shrine.

[ auin and her wife also neglected to tell dan heng that the lady healer was a summoned as well, or he'd have started out saying something less... painfully nondescript. but maybe there's something in the way he holds himself (guarded), or the way he distinctly describes the shrine as not belonging to him, that might alert her to his own status as a summoned. other than that, he simply looks... young and serious with a messy mop of dark hair falling in his eyes. ]

And... are there any materials you need to restock on that you'd be willing to buy?

[ just kidding! he's on that GRINDSET. guess who has two thumbs and absolutely zero marketable skills besides "good at spear" and "interplanetary biology as a hobby" and is trying to at least find a way to make some coin so he can buy a ~~car~~ new spear? this alien. sorry haelva, but he's willing to sell to anyone who can give him cash instead of barter.

... he just has to find them first. ]

"It's lovely to meet you Claire. I'm Kelson." He was still figuring everything out and thus, had to ask. "Are you a native here or one of the Summoned?" For all he knew she was a werewolf or something. Could be, right? And he had learned the hard way not to go...poking around in peoples minds without permission. Apparently, it was rude. Honestly though, that was the easier way of doing thing.

He took the empty seat across from her, looking around at how full it was. He hadn't quite expected it, but he hadn't been here long and had only recently discovered Nocwich.

"Are you here exploring? Shopping? Trying to whittle down the time?" Kelson wasn't sure what to expect of Claire. She seemed educated, well spoken, well mannered. But didn't seem to have the same qualities he'd expect from a duchess or the like. Not quite common born either. Well, there were certainly other societies and worlds people had come from, and he hadn't been acquainted with all of them yet.

[ She can't help it, she really can't. She laughs, hard, at 'deaf cunt' and winds up doubling over for a second. Claire can't wait to tell Wrench that, he seems like the sort of man who would be amused. She hasn't had a good laugh like that in a while, and once she calms down, she presses a hand to her chest. ]

I apologize, that wasn't at you. I happen to know who you're speaking of, he saved my life not long ago. Although, someone being in your head would be a bit much in the first week. It was for me, in any case.

[ Claire looks at him, an amused smirk still on her lips, wondering if he'll ask her to go. ]

Do you have a name?

Edited 2023-10-13 03:11 (UTC)

( She's laughing.

Well.

Hm.

That's entirely unexpected and he's not quite sure what to do with that. Some stupid, idiotic background portion of his brain sees fit to observe that it's a good laugh, and he doesn't know what to think of that either. He tries to quickly parse out whether or not she's laughing at his expense somehow, but as much as his self-sabotaging brain tries to twist logic around, he can't find anything that lines up. It seems genuine.

She's a bloody strange one, is the only conclusion he can draw.

He's been hit or miss with giving out his name. Gave it to Julia, to Wanda. Didn't give it to the basically-a-Targaryen cunt from the baths. If she'd have asked him at the start of the conversation, he might've told her to fuck off and that his name wasn't her business. Now, the way is eased enough that he sighs and grants it. )

Sandor Clegane.

( It's tempting to add on The Hound, just to see if that means anything to her. If there's any recognition in her eyes. He knows there have been Targaryens here, Geralt told him as much. There could be others that know of him, of his crimes, his reputation.

But it's not likely, and so in the end, he leaves it off. )

See, you're under the impression that I'm a fancy lawyer and I'm really not.

( he thanks her quietly when she leads him to the table and takes a seat, smiling as he does. )

I've gone up against fancy lawyers but I think most people would label me...well, not fancy.

( and he likes it that way. )

[Well. It's been a while, hasn't it? He's not reported in for his usual bout of taking care of Claire's bee houses or being taught how to do so, since the whole debacle with monsters crawling through rifts, tearing across Abraxas.

And perhaps that adds a layer of awkwardness to the whole thing, what with the vision the Singularity unabashedly beaming an image of blame into everyone's heads, coupled nicely with his own face. But Henry shows not a single mote of that awkwardness, ever able to shore up his unassuming demeanor without issue, even as he approaches Claire's new home.

Anyone there to greet him? If so, he offers with a smile, very simply-]

I like the new place.

[ It's a relief to see Eddie smiling; she'd heard the music but hadn't realized it was him playing. The realization when she sees the instrument in his hands makes her smile, and she makes her way to the stage, standing in front of him and looking up. ]

If it was you playing the blues just now, then yes, I am looking for you. You wouldn't happen to know any Muddy Waters would you?

[ One of the few things she and Frank actually agreed over was their taste in music. Both eclectic, their record collection is something she still thinks about sometimes. Jamie's worth having left it all behind, but what she wouldn't give sometimes to relax in the evening in front of her hearth with some Jamie and a recording of Etta James. Eddie gives her a peek into the future, that music is just as important in his time as it was in hers; she saw how it rallied men during the war, everyone coming together for music. Comedy too, but music always had more turnout wherever she happened to be stationed. ]

[ This is the last season for honey, and she's getting all the honey jarred that she can, especially now that the bees have settled in their new home. Her only goal was to get her house done before winter, and now that's accomplished she can relax.

She isn't surprised by the request at all, even before she moved, families routinely sent their children to her on errands. She is surprised that it's a child she hasn't seen before and the longer he talks, the more she's convinced he's a new Summond. ]

Well, I can certainly get you the honeycomb for Miss Auin, that isn't a problem. Did you just arrive here?

[ Claire asks the question as she gestures him inside, leaving the door open for now, letting the breeze through. ]

It's nice to officially meet you, Sandor Clegane.

[ She nearly offers her hand, but instead, she gestures to the ground, out of the way. She already has an idea of his personality, it really wasn't hard to get there, but he's listening to her which is more than she can say for some men. ]

Do you mind if I sit? I've been walking for a while now, and home is a bit further than it used to be.

[ It's up to him, she won't stay if he seems to bristle at the thought; that might be too much for one day. She remembers the entire first month being disorienting for her. ]

( He is not a polite man, and he does not suffer false courtesies. All the same, he was a devoted Kingsguard for most of his life, and is well accustomed to the appropriate gestures he's meant to give a Lady. He oscillates back and forth between giving into those habits, or staunchly and savagely rejecting them. It's hard to say which of the two paths he might do here, and so it's just as well that she doesn't hold her hand out.

With his trouser leg finally rolled down, he stands — a pleasant reminder of just how much taller than her he is, a gesture that might be intimidating to most other women, and men. It probably detracts from the subtler gesture here — that he's giving up his seat for her to sit, under the guise of picking back up his axe. Intent to carry on chopping, for want of something to do with his hands. )

Do as you like, I'm not your bloody keeper.

( Which is as close to an invitation as she's likely to get. He goes about plucking up his next log, of bracing it in place — and then pausing to cast a sideways glance over at her. )

Where's home? Not the settlement?

[ Claire hasn't considered revoking her invitation to Henry, she doesn't know what to think, really. She doesn't feel anything other than appreciative of his help. He may feel awkward, but she only greets him as warmly as she ever has. ]

Thank you, Henry, I'm glad you made it over. It isn't too far to come now, is it?

[ She ushers him inside first; there's access to the back from there. Inviting him in, she holds up her kettle in an offer of coffee or tea before they go out. ]

[ Now there's an image: this man looking after her. She can't imagine once she's done with his leg, he'll be knocking on her door for a drop-in. Still, as long as he isn't shooing her off, she'll sit and does. Watching him go about his work, she's surprised when he does talk to her and asks a question. ]

It was, until about two weeks ago or so. I just finished having a house built. Just west of here, down the hill and set back a bit, closer to the treeline.

[ Claire considers him a second, deciding to go for asking a question in return. ]

Where you're from, is it like Solvunn?

( West of here, down the hill, closer to the treeline. A scowl flashes across his face as his mind flashes quickly to Aloy's homestead, of the rush of dozens of boars trying to trample the place down. Threatening to gore them. The blood, the carnage. Could be that Claire is a witch like Wanda, and she can handle herself, but he's seen no such indications of that yet. Dumb fucking woman's going to get herself killed.

He says nothing.

Brings the axe down, effortlessly splitting a log in twain before he answers. )

Parts.

( He grunts, noncommittal, and for a moment it may seem like that's all she's likely to get. )

Cities are bigger. King's Landing's five hundred thousand strong. The villages, the holdfasts... some of them are similar.

"Not a native," she says with an understanding smile. Then, she points to the sigil on her shoulder. "I'm a Summond, you can tell us apart because all of us have a sigil. 'The Empress' for me." Her speech is educated and she's well-spoken; she would be considered a highborn in some places, and she technically is a Lady. Or was, in any case. Now she lives in the backwoods of North Carolina. She isn't sure if being married to John means she's a Lady once more— She'll have to ask.

"I like to take the opportunity to come to Nocwich and shop, or trade if I can, for things that we don't have in Solvunn. And it's getting cooler, so I thought a few warm things might be nice. How long has it been since you arrived?" she asks before taking a bite of her meal and wiping her mouth with a napkin.

She's curious about the people she meets, it's one of the things she's actually enjoyed about being in Abraxas. She offers him her plate of bread while she waits on his answer, pushing it gently across the table.

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Some days I look in mirrors

Nocwich

( horizon )

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➳ sandor clegane

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nocwich!

solvunn.

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dropping in, maybe for bee duty?

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that's perfect!

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