Arthur E. Hastings (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
smilefornow) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2023-11-12 05:42 pm
smilefornow) wrote in abraxaslogs2023-11-12 05:42 pm
Open November Catch-All
Who: Arthur Hastings and OPEN
When: November
Where: Solvunn, Horizon
What: Arthur builds his domain, discovers his new ability, and other things
Warnings: Will add as needed!
Horizon - Domain Building
It started with the pig.
A single, black, giant Berkshire sow. The Empress of Blandings, called to life from the stories Arthur had devoured in his youth. It had taken a good hour at least to get her right, but attention to detail is important.
Following the pig came a simple sty and pig keeper's shack. And then Arthur needed to go back to the real world and have a break because that much was overwhelming already. It felt very much like playing god. It's too much power, too much magic. He's too afraid of something going wrong.
But little by little he adds more to his own personal corner of the Horizon. The mossy path between overhanging trees. The gardens. The fountain for the front. The cobblestone roads that go nowhere and come from nowhere, just the edge of his domain where they fade out.
Now comes the centerpiece. Blandings Castle itself. Though likely a smaller scale, Arthur can't imagine constructing something that large out of nothing. But he's going to try. He can't help himself. His childhood had been filled with escaping mentally to the seat of Lord Emsworth in Shropshire. Now he can truly visit that place he'd seen in his mind since he was about eight.
"Alright, Empress. Let's get a wiggle on, eh?"
The pig makes a horrific and loud squealing noise in response. Arthur just grins and gives her a pat on the head. This is it. Screwing his face up in concentration, he begins building a single tower from the ground up, row of stone by row of stone as though building by hand.
He's still new to this whole Horizon thing.
Primary Settlement - Marketplace
It's funny how life doesn't feel quite real. Arthur is well flushed of all the things Wellington had pumped him full of now, and over his scurvy and all those other little malnutrition problems. He's living with a nice local family and working in their carpentry shop. He's very decent at carpentry, he knows how to build things. And it's nice. God knew the last time he'd built something that wasn't an impromptu weapon or something like that. Making chairs and benches and wagon wheels is a very pleasant change of pace.
But none of it feels real. It hasn't felt real for some time.
He's fallen into a routine. Work in the morning, then wander over to the marketplace to grab a bit of lunch. Which is what he's doing right this moment. The novelty of just being able to buy fresh food every day hasn't worn off. Already there's a heel of brown bread and some sausage in his bag. Now he's stopped at a stall with carious vegetables - a proper Englishman always gets his two veg in, when he can. But what does he want today? Turnip? No, they have to be cooked just right to taste any good. Maybe carrots?
His hand hovers over the wooden bins of veg, contemplating. He's holding it over the beets, thinking very hard about what the best particular tuber may be...
When suddenly one of the beets begins to shake. It shimmies and shudders against its fellows and then...pops up. It...it has little red legs and toeless feet that somewhat resemble roots.
With no warning or explanation, it begins to tap dance on the edge of the wooden bin. Quite skillfully.
"Ah....is...this normal?"
Arthur has to ask that a lot in Solvunn.
When: November
Where: Solvunn, Horizon
What: Arthur builds his domain, discovers his new ability, and other things
Warnings: Will add as needed!
Horizon - Domain Building
It started with the pig.
A single, black, giant Berkshire sow. The Empress of Blandings, called to life from the stories Arthur had devoured in his youth. It had taken a good hour at least to get her right, but attention to detail is important.
Following the pig came a simple sty and pig keeper's shack. And then Arthur needed to go back to the real world and have a break because that much was overwhelming already. It felt very much like playing god. It's too much power, too much magic. He's too afraid of something going wrong.
But little by little he adds more to his own personal corner of the Horizon. The mossy path between overhanging trees. The gardens. The fountain for the front. The cobblestone roads that go nowhere and come from nowhere, just the edge of his domain where they fade out.
Now comes the centerpiece. Blandings Castle itself. Though likely a smaller scale, Arthur can't imagine constructing something that large out of nothing. But he's going to try. He can't help himself. His childhood had been filled with escaping mentally to the seat of Lord Emsworth in Shropshire. Now he can truly visit that place he'd seen in his mind since he was about eight.
"Alright, Empress. Let's get a wiggle on, eh?"
The pig makes a horrific and loud squealing noise in response. Arthur just grins and gives her a pat on the head. This is it. Screwing his face up in concentration, he begins building a single tower from the ground up, row of stone by row of stone as though building by hand.
He's still new to this whole Horizon thing.
Primary Settlement - Marketplace
It's funny how life doesn't feel quite real. Arthur is well flushed of all the things Wellington had pumped him full of now, and over his scurvy and all those other little malnutrition problems. He's living with a nice local family and working in their carpentry shop. He's very decent at carpentry, he knows how to build things. And it's nice. God knew the last time he'd built something that wasn't an impromptu weapon or something like that. Making chairs and benches and wagon wheels is a very pleasant change of pace.
But none of it feels real. It hasn't felt real for some time.
He's fallen into a routine. Work in the morning, then wander over to the marketplace to grab a bit of lunch. Which is what he's doing right this moment. The novelty of just being able to buy fresh food every day hasn't worn off. Already there's a heel of brown bread and some sausage in his bag. Now he's stopped at a stall with carious vegetables - a proper Englishman always gets his two veg in, when he can. But what does he want today? Turnip? No, they have to be cooked just right to taste any good. Maybe carrots?
His hand hovers over the wooden bins of veg, contemplating. He's holding it over the beets, thinking very hard about what the best particular tuber may be...
When suddenly one of the beets begins to shake. It shimmies and shudders against its fellows and then...pops up. It...it has little red legs and toeless feet that somewhat resemble roots.
With no warning or explanation, it begins to tap dance on the edge of the wooden bin. Quite skillfully.
"Ah....is...this normal?"
Arthur has to ask that a lot in Solvunn.
no subject
"You know, I've never seen something quite like that before. But here, where magic is in abundance, I wouldn't count anything out."
That's her advice, in any case, and she offers it with a still-bewildered-at-what-she-saw smile.
no subject
Arthur blinks, perplexed and transfixed. The beet finishes with a flourish, the little legs shrink back into it, and it lies prone once more. Like a marionette with the strings cut.
Oh that is...that is indeed alarming. He gives a high, nervous little chuckle. This is fine. All perfectly fine, he's fine. Just aces. No need for a panic attack over a dancing tuber.
But there's just something so unsettling about it. Like something out of M. R. James. What if it's alive alive? No one else seems very unsettled, though. Mildly surprised, maybe, but...well. He'd said it himself, hadn't he? Considering all the impossible things...
"Well. Don't think I'll be having beets tonight, after all."
Or maybe ever again.
no subject
Oh dear, he seems to be more alarmed than the average settled Summoned, which must mean—
"I'm afraid we haven't met. Claire Fraser, I'm one of the non-magical healers here. A doctor, from Earth, if you're familiar. I don't think we've ever had the pleasure of meeting."
no subject
But she seems like a nice woman who's a proper doctor, the sort from before times.
So he only blanches a little bit, and smooths it away with another less nervous little laugh. Because if she's from Earth, and she sounds like that....
"I am familiar! I'm from Earth! Wellington Wells, England, in the Bristol Channel! Though I suppose we sort of excommunicated ourselves from Great Britain after the war..."
Even so, he was still an Englishman. And by god, he thinks he's found a countryman! Or countrywoman, as it were.
"Arthur Hastings, a sincere pleasure to meet you."
What a nice distraction from spontaneously dancing vegetables.
no subject
"Admittedly, Wellington Wells doesn't sound familiar, though I'm familiar with a Wellington in New Zealand." She's from two different times, and either of them might have incorporated a town since then, she's no clue. He could be from far-flung into her future as well. Then he mentions the war and ex-communication and she wonders if perhaps this is an alternate version of her world instead. Still, they can get to that later.
"I was born in London but raised around the world. One of the brighter sides of being here is meeting so many others I might never have before." She pauses before continuing. "You mentioned the Great War," spoilers for the future, so she treads lightly. No sense in bringing up yet another one. "What year is it in Wellington Wells?"
It's a question she's gotten used to asking, though it would have thrown her off a bit nearly a year ago, even as a time traveler.
no subject
"Born and raised there myself, never left! Of course after the war no one...could leave..." Not easily. He managed it, but thanks to literal magical intervention. Who knows if he ever would have made it across that last bridge otherwise?
Doesn't matter. He's here now, in a much kinder cult, and he's found someone that might actually be able to tell him a little about the state of the world after 1940. She'd identified his vague mention of war as the Great War, after all! Though it was really more The Great War Part Two, We're Still Mad About the Archduke. At least as Arthur understood it, he'd only been a child at the time and not cognizant of the complicated tensions between varying powerful nations. He'd been more concerned with there suddenly being no chocolate or orange juice.
World War II in his world was much different than in most others.
"But yes. It was 1964 when I left. And probably still is, it was just a few weeks before All Hallows, and then in a few weeks All Hallows happened here. But we were occupied by the Germans during the Great War and were....cut off from the rest of the world since then. I don't even know who won the war, the German Empire or the Russians and Americans, and I was little when that happened."
no subject
"I think there are some vast differences between our versions of the world. Bt first, would you like to find a place to sit? I have enough for a cup of tea and some biscuits for both of us if you like?"
It's never best to dump TheGermanslostAndI'matimetraveler on someone who's new, and she offers a friendly smile. "I might insist, in order to treat a new neighbor to something kind."
She wouldn't really (what if he doesn't like tea) but she does try to be a friend to all.
no subject
Who knows, maybe one of her portals will pop up here, and he'll see James and Roger again. He wouldn't mind that, they'd been alright lads.
But for now, he's simply relieved to meet someone that offers an air of the familiar.
"And a cup of tea and biscuits sounds quite nice, thank you. Like Uncle Jack always says, sip sip hurray, it's teatime somewhere!" What sort of Englishman would he be if he didn't like tea? And here he doesn't have to worry about what's in the water. It's been so nice to be able to eat and drink without wondering what he was really putting into his body.
no subject
"Then off we go," she says as she begins to lead the way. "One thing I've found in all my travels, it's that everyone has some sort of ritual around a beverage. Be it tea, wine, or a homemade brew. Usually something warming and comforting, which I always find reassuring no matter where I am. There's a little thread of commonality tugging at us all."
She spots a small and well-enjoyed cafe-ish location to sit and have a casual conversation, removing her cloak and hanging it behind her.
no subject
They do love their little rhymes. And their Simon Says. And the bedtime stories Uncle Jack reads every night at 10 PM, when all good Wellies should be tucked into bed to settle in for sleep. He thinks about the playgrounds, full of grannies, and the old men at the Victory Memorial playing as though they were boys with toy rifles rather than veterans with working bayonets. He thinks about the titles of all of Uncle Jack's shows, how they sound like names of children programs.
All those thoughts start slotting together in a way he would very much like them not to. No, now is not the time to explore this and untangle yet another maddeningly fucked up aspect of the society he comes from. He clears his throat and focuses on the nice lady doctor as they walk and pushes the dark revelation threatening back into that deep mental holes he shoves so much into.
Which is much harder to do without the help of Joy.
"Yes, yes, absolutely." He sort of knows what he's agreeing with. People liking to drink things. Yes. That's right. "I remember even during the bombing, when I was small, mum always made tea. Every day. Even if there weren't any tea leaves, she'd use dandelion and whatever herbs were lying about."
no subject
"During a different war, in a different time, I was stuck on a battlefield with a starving army. That was all I had as well, dandelion mostly, trying to keep the men from scurvy. Bones reused again and again for stock until it was mostly water with a whisp of boar or chicken."
As soon as they manage to sit, Claire will give Arthur time to decide what he wants, not rushing the ordering process.
"I was also quite taken aback by the magic here. I haven't told many people this, but the first three days, I hardly left my room. It was overwhelming with both the locals aggressively welcoming, and other Summond being helpful but a bit overwhelming. It's a fine balance." One Claire doesn't always get right either; time will tell if she gives Arthur a healthy dose of anxiety or helps a bit.
no subject
Oh now this is familiar! Which is perhaps rather mad, but that's the way of things. Finally, someone who understands! And won't make terrible faces at him for having eaten a great many weeds.
"And piling slices of tulip bulbs and lichen on a plate and telling yourself it's just the same as lettuce and cucumber." It is not. Not even close. "It's a shame I did the same thing, with staying in for days. I've just gotten over scurvy myself. Could have used some proper medical guidance, we...don't have much of that where I come from."
He'd been a right mess when he'd first arrived. He's better now - though still too skinny - but it had been an unpleasant adjustment that he'd just...suffered through. That's what one does, when one comes from Wellington Wells.
"It was all very overwhelming, and then we went to Hell. On the heels of an already overwhelming month. I'm really rather exhausted from being whelmed."
no subject
When Arthur mentions he's had scurvy, Claire looks at him in gentle concern. "Mr. Hastings, are you feeling well enough now? I have teas to help get your vitamin C up, and I'm happy to help you get your hands on some fresh greens. I happen to have a large garden I've been harvesting and there's plenty."
It worries her when people have had recent illnesses and then dragged through something not not traumatic. "But yes, I agree, though there are worse places I could've spent my birthday. Still, I'm keen not to go back soon. There wasn't quite enough I liked to outweigh what I didn't." The birds, especially, for her part. They can stay in that place forever.
"I hope it wasn't too terrible for you, at least in comparison to being in Solvunn now."
no subject
The bit of concern is nice, though. Actual concern for actual health. The only thing anyone back home was concerned about was whether or not you'd taken your pills. Arthur hasn't had anyone who genuinely cared about his health or well being in some time.
"But oh yes, I rather like Solvunn. Plenty of food, clean water, a working economy...and I know it's something of a cult but really, it's much more benign than the cults I'm used to. Not even any rules about smiling all the time or being in by sundown. And no one cares that I'm embarrassingly ignorant of far too many things!"
All in all, an improvement all around. Well. Almost.
"Er...I am a tick concerned about the local gods, though. Apparently they're much stronger and more active than the ones I'm used to. Very meager abilities, the gods of Wellington Wells."
no subject
"Honestly, I've heard people comment on the cult-like living, and I hadn't thought much about it. You aren't wrong, though as a lapsed Catholic, I think if you got a group living together, rituals of body and blood to bread and wine which everyone then partakes of...well. Cult-like." That said, she's never been looked at the way she is by the locals, but she's used to it by now. "It can be a bit of a spectacle here at times." Sometimes she feels for the Summoned who are unable to get from point A to point B without hassle.
"I didn't much believe in gods back home and I'm reluctant to give them any credit now. Because this isn't my world I would rather be respectful than pick apart personal beliefs, but I am quite curious if it's deities, or perhaps something else. Science from a world we don't understand, maybe?"
There are examples from ancient history she could draw on, but instead, she's so intrigued by what he's said that she leans in with interest.
"You do have active gods in your world? How so?" She recalls myths and stories of gods and humans interacting, and it never seems good.
no subject
Arthur knows cults. Wellington Wells had descended into cults within cults. Outside, looking back, he can understand just how horrible a cult he'd been a part of. And it hadn't even been religious! This place? Barely a cult. Cult-like, as the doctor said.
And really, it is mostly religious. Just very structured and important religion.
Speaking of...hmm. How to explain? The gods of his home were very tied to what had happened to it, and even the condensed version is long and confusing. But he thinks he can manage.
"Oh, yes. Ah...well, after the war, we ended up very isolated. The bridges to the mainland closed down, no one in or out. Small, isolated community, post-war...everything. It got...well, to be perfectly frank it got very strange very quickly. Plenty of people turned to old ways and old beliefs and best I can tell that woke some things up. I thought it was mostly nonsense but then I met one. Of the gods, I mean. Very nice, but like I said, meager powers. It was a yam. But it did decide I was its champion and now I can eat spoiled meat without getting ill. There ends the power of the Holy Yam."
Like he said. Things got very strange in his little ex-slice of England.
no subject
"I can undoubtedly see how that might happen, with turning to something old when there's no way forward. A hopeful regression, of sorts." That doesn't sound atypical, especially if you have no hope of being brought back to civilization. In fact, that part, while unfortunate, doesn't surprise her at all. The portion that lost her is, of course, the yam.
"I've been here long enough now to not question a lot of things people tell me, but this one is new. I hope you don't mind if I have a follow-up but...is it a sentient yam?"
no subject
In oh so many ways that Arthur still refuses to think about. The Holy Yam he can think about. That's nothing in the grand scheme of the insanity that has been his life.
"And yes. A talking, glowing yam able to offer blessings. Had a whole little cult built up. There was Space God Cult, too, but I'm not sure if their god was real or a result of the hallucinogenic mushrooms they constantly ate. I rather suspect the latter." He'd certainly never met that tentacled monstrosity.
"Er, I wasn't a part of the cult, by the way. I'm a Quaker." A point he realizes he ought to clarify. He'd really just sort of stumbled into things.
no subject
"Mr. Hastings, I have to admit, you might have one of the most fascinating backstories of anyone I've met so far. Talking vegetables that are to be worshipped. That's completely new, and I would love to bet most of this is fueled by drugs." But she's guessing that's a no.
"Quakers are wonderful by me, though I've heard my husband's aunt has her fair share to say of them." Mainly because she's a slave owner, but boy does Claire not want to get into that, and so she diverts.
"There was a cult that captured all the news through the 60s, but it was more of the...drugs and murder sort. Thank whoever or whatever we don't have that here." If there has been out-and-out serial killing, she's unaware it happened.
...They have ritualistic sacrifice, but that might be a tidbit for later.
no subject
Arthur does not at all mean to start laughing, and he certainly doesn't mean to start laughing in so high pitched and odd manner. But he can't help it. "I would love to bet most of this is fueled by drugs" she says. It's such an absurdly funny thing to say, and of course she has no idea.
"I'm sorry," he gasps, lifting a hand in a gesture he intends to mean he's alright, really, regardless of his near-hysterical laugher. "I'm very sorry."
After a few throat clearings and being acutely aware of how he is at risk of Drawing Attention, he gets himself under control.
"Sorry. You...made a very good joke without realizing it. And you are quite right, I come from a terribly strange place. I...I think I'm much happier here." He's safer, he knows that. He has more opportunity and a real chance for some sort of life. Those are easily quantifiable things. Happiness...Arthur's still figuring out what that's like, without the feeling being synthesized by chemicals.
"It's much nicer here, at least."
no subject
"Do you know, you aren't the only person who's said that to me? I've met a few others who would stay if given the chance, and after hearing of their worlds or what they've gone through, I can't say I blame anyone." Even if they wanted to stay just because, she can't find fault. Didn't she stay in an alternate place when she could have (more or less) easily returned 'home?'
"I hope we get the choice to stay or go, that would make all of this much nicer. There are dangers here, just like anywhere else, but I will say the specific things I've encountered have taken me by surprise. Being gifted with magic, for instance. Have you ventured to the Horizon yet?"
no subject
"And oh, yes, the Horizon. I've been building myself a little spot there. Tend to stay away from magic, though, knowing my luck...well, it's probably safest for everyone if I don't try my hand at it."
Machines he knows. He'd gone to university to study them, and he had graduated at the top of his class with an engineering degree. Magic...that's another bag entirely. Seems terribly easy to get it wrong and give himself six feet or something like that.
Better safe than sorry. Or magically mutated, as the case may be.
no subject
"Pardon for asking, but...aren't you curious what you're capable of? In the Horizon any damage you managed wouldn't affect you or anyone else permanently. What if magic is actually where you thrive?"
She's trying for a bit of encouragement as one who didn't even realize she had a magical ability until weeks after visiting the Horizon for the first time, and she didn't lean into learning for months.
"I was more wary than interested for a long while, so I do understand if you're coming at it from that angle. ...Actually, I'm still wary, but for different reasons now."
no subject
It's one of those occasions when he ends up in Arthur's domain, attention caught by the sound of the pig, which Jayden was really not sure if was a happy sound or the creature dying or something. But it seems totally fine when he finally locates it, and by extension Arthur, and then by further extension the... Interesting... Method of constructing the castle.
"What are you making?" He asks the question lightly, curious; maybe there's some reason he's doing it this way?
no subject
Arthur - and the Empress - turn to look. In the Horizon, Arthur is dressed much the way he'd dressed back home. A neat black 60s style suit and tie with large, square glasses and shiny oxford style shoes. It doesn't occur to him to dress any different. He is still a creature of habit.
At least he smiles sometimes now.
"Ah, hello there. Lovely day for it! I'm building Blandings Castle."
As though everyone knows what that is. Coming from when and where he does, it's a reasonable assumption in his mind. They were terribly popular stories in the 20s and 30s in England.
no subject
"Blandings Castle?" He echoes the answer as another question, not at all familiar with it, but glad that Arthur--or the Empress, at least hopefully--doesn't seem bothered by his arrival. And realizing maybe he should clarify a little, considering the different worlds, he adds, "I'm familiar with what a castle is, but the specific one you're talkin' about."
no subject
Not that they exist in this world, but that's alright. He's read them enough times to have them more or less memorized.
"Always wanted to see it for real, but of course it wasn't. Here, though...well, it can be, can't it?"
no subject
But that's less important than the construction of the castle, and he nods at the sentiment before glancing at the foundation, then back to Arthur. "Yeah, it definitely can. D'you know what the whole thing looks like? Or got an idea of it, anyway?"
no subject
The pig sty, the mossy path, the pig herself...The castle - which was, technically, a castle in name only - just has to look vaguely right. Arthur isn't too concerned. And he thinks it's coming along very nicely.
He does pause his construction, not sure if he could both build a part of a castle and carry on a conversation at the same time.
"I know it's a bit daft. All this raw potential for creation and I'm recreating the make-believe place I used to read about as a kid." As a thirty - probably - years old adult man. A practical and sensible thirty year old adult man at that.
But he's had a very difficult few months and he doesn't have his books. He may acknowledge that it's daft, but that isn't going to stop him.
no subject
"It is a little weird how you're buildin' it, though. Is there a reason you're doing it one piece at a time?" He asks it lightly, still trying not to sound derisive, because he certainly doesn't mean it that way. "Not that it's wrong to do it this way or anythin', it's just a lot faster to do it all at once. Easier too, I think." Though then again maybe not; that could be something that varies from person to person.
no subject
Arthur gives a nervous little laugh. Making something so big? All at once? All he can see are ways it could go wrong. Things go wrong for him so often and easily...
No. Certainly not. He'll go slow and steady. That does, according to Aesop, win the race.
"Very new to all this, me." And still intimidated by it. "Very, very new. Still getting the hang of it." Besides, it isn't as though he has a time limit. And it's still getting built faster than a real castle would. It's rising row by row of stone, and he gets to watch it. Like he'd imagined when he was young, and still thought engineering and architecture were his true callings in life.
"Anyway...wouldn't feel as much like building a castle that way."
no subject
"I thought the same thing at first, but after usin' this place a lot, I'm pretty sure it's not gonna make your head explode. It doesn't seem to have any sorta' drawbacks so far."
Except for maybe the addictive quality of it, but then again no one's ever mentioned that to Jayden before, so maybe that's just him. Either way he's not about to bring it up himself.
"But if you want to do it this way, you're right, it's definitely gonna' feel like more of an accomplishment. You'll get a lot more fine control over the details too." As opposed to having to go back and fill them in later. There's definitely some merit to Arthur's method.
And that said, he's got to ask--
"Is the pig the one from your story?"
no subject
After he's had a great deal more practice. Arthur is too used to things blowing up in his face to be anything other than careful. Particularly with magic.
But he brightens when asked about his porcine companion.
"Yes! This is The Empress of Blandings! Three times winner of the Shropshire Fattest Pig Competition. Never has there been a finer Berkshire sow. The pride of the Earl of Emsworth. Which...well, I suppose here, is...me."
Lord Emsworth is just the title of whoever owns Blandings, after all. Of course it's not real, this is a...an imaginary realm, essentially, that means absolutely nothing. But...that part of him that never quite grew up takes a strange sort of delight in the idea. He'd been the sort of child that reveled in imaginary escapism.
"Er, not that I'm actually an earl, of course. I'm not sure if we even have earls anymore, in the twentieth century. I'm just Arthur."
He'd hate to give the man the wrong impression. Particularly after he's asked about the Empress. What a smashing fellow!
no subject
This is another case of that, filling out a bit more about this story that clearly means something to Arthur. Something beyond just being a cool castle, anyway, especially with how enthusiastic he seems to be in rattling off details about the pig, which Jayden just takes his word for; Jayden wouldn't have the first idea of The Empress were fat enough to be award winning or not, or how you rate a pig as 'fine' or not, and he's mostly just hoping the creature isn't easily offended or anything. He's not super practiced at dealing with animals.
The comment about the twentieth century, combined with the mention of 'old English country', narrow down a bit more what Arthur's world might be like, and it's always a relief when that's something recognizable at all. It means that, despite his lack of knowledge about prize farm animals, Jayden does have something he can offer to the conversation.
"I'm pretty sure there's still earls, at least in my world, but the title's more for show than anythin' else. Could be wrong, though; if you couldn't tell by the accent, I'm American." Unless America doesn't exist in Arthur's world, but he supposes he'll find out. And since he has a name now, he should add his own. "Nice to meet you. Jayden."
no subject
"Yes, I had noticed! It's very nice to meet you." Arthur sounds rather pleased at that. "There's so many Americans here. I never met one before, you know. Not that I remember anyway, they say there were GI's in Wellington Wells before the Germans came, but I was very little. Then they left and the Germans came. When they left...well...no one came, after that."
Not even from across the way in Wales. The bridges were locked down and Wellington Wells became an independent state. Unfortunately.
"We sort of followed in your footsteps, actually. Told England to sod off, we'll take care of ourselves." Not...that it had worked. At all. It's one thing for a whole continent to say 'fuck you, we don't need you!' and another for a tiny chain of islands with hardly any farmland or animals....
But still. From his limited (and skewed) understanding, Americans are very impressed by can-do pluck and telling off monarchs.
no subject
Arthur actually isn't wrong about Americans being impressed by this kind of thing, and Jayden is from Boston which only amplifies it, but the 'yeah, screw England' sentiment is unfortunately being a little drowned out by the rest of his confusion and curiosity.
"Wait, what year is it there? And where's Wellington Wells?"
no subject
Not that Arthur had anything to do with that. Not really. He'd been a teenager and hadn't had any say in the matter.
But he hadn't helped, once he'd reached adulthood. How could he have? He was as hopped up on Joy as everyone else. No sense in going round about it all in his head again, once done can't be undone and all that. He's here now. He's out. Having a nice chat with someone else who isn't hopped up on government mandated drugs.
And probably thinks he's a touch mad. Arthur is well aware that life in Wellington Wells was unlike life anywhere else - thank Dog for that.
"Things....er...went rather banana shaped for us after the war."
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He supposes it's possible there's some isolated community off the coast of England that's been covered up or something, but that's more than farfetched enough that he's definitely inclined to believe it's a difference between worlds. And not a good difference, if how Arthur's talking about it is any indication, and so Jayden wonders--
"Is bein' here an improvement?"
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How different his Earth is from everyone else's. It always seems to 'diverge', so to speak, around the 1920s. Talk about Shakespeare or Queen Victoria and everyone's on the same page. Mention any details about the Great Wars and suddenly it's like he's speaking a different language. Even ignoring Wellington Wells' specific circumstances.
"And oh goodness, yes! I spent the last month before I came here trying to get out anyway. This wasn't how I expected to do it, but..." Arthur shrugs and absently pats the Empress. "Well, every road leads to Rome and all that. And I knew about as much about the mainland back home as I did about this place, so really, it all worked out roughly the same. And here I don't need to worry about not having identification papers or monies or my astounding and downright embarrassing ignorance of life outside Wellington."
His ignorance is expected here! No one thinks he's an idiot for not knowing things. Here he's an alien from another world, of course he knows nothing. And everyone else he meets from Earth comes from some other Earth.
It's oddly comforting to be accepted in his ignorance.
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"You get here recently? Or just haven't had much experience with the Horizon yet?" He'd been assuming it was the former, but it could also easily be the latter. However, with how positively Arthur's speaking of being here so far, Jayden is wondering if he's been around for any of the more difficult ordeals. If he has, it would mean even more than he still prefers this place.
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"I did get here before the field trip to Hell." He knows it has some other name here, but it was the lava filled underworld where the demon people live. That's Hell as far as he's concerned.
"And, ah...I was filled in on recent events, so to speak." Though he rather wishes he hadn't been. At least no one was gruesomely sacrificed in demon-land. He can't say the same for Solvunn.
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He nods at the comment about being filled in on recent events, and although that is less clear than his previous remark, it's still easy enough to infer Arthur had been told about the major incidents of the last year. Presumably, anyway, and since Jayden doesn't actually want to talk much about one of those major incidents, he decides it's okay to leave that vague.
"Hell was a lot nicer a place than I woulda' ever expected." He instead remarks lightly. "At least 'til the last day, anyway. It was interestin' to see real dragons, though."
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Arthur's eyes go wide and bright behind his thick glasses. Hell had been rather nicer than he'd imagined, and he'd enjoyed himself to some extent. But the dragons....Oh, the dragons! Real and tangible and as incredible as any fairy tale ever claimed.
"I was always very enamored of dragons, as a kid. My mum read me all the King Arthur stories, they were her favorites." Which was why he and his brother had given been names taken right from the legends. Not that he'd lived up to his, not by a long shot. Who ever could?
"I knew they weren't real, not in England, but I wanted very much to see one anyhow. Funny how things work out, I suppose!"
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However, there is one part of the whole fantasy thing that Jayden does particularly appreciate.
"Tried out any magic yourself yet? Other than the Horizon."