abraxaslogs | Semi-Open Log

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Semi-Open Log

Who: Nadine and various prisoners
What: Visiting the dungeons
Where: The dungeons
When: Post-festival

Nadine is no stranger to the dungeons by now. Besides her frequent visits to Flagg, there are other prisoners down here she's befriended. Who are still imprisoned.

Apparently some are more threatening a threat than others.

And of course there are still plenty of others she hasn't met at all. It's important to know the other people brought here, to take their measure and determine who might be useful. It doesn't look like Thorne is about to let her husband out any time soon, and that's a problem that will need to be dealt with. She knows (casually, at least) a number of those considered welcomed guests, but many of the poor souls stuck down here are still a mystery.

So after she's checked in with Flagg, she turns her attention to the other prisoners, offering a smile or casual greeting through the bars. She's armed with cookies and a friendly demeanor, standing out in the gloom of the dungeon with her white hair and silk tunic.

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"That's okay," Nadine says, quietly. She holds a hand in front of her, cupped like holding something, and mumbles under her breath until a lick of flame appears over her palm. "So am I."

She closes her fist to snuff out the flame, still not able to maintain it for very long. But it's proof of what can be learned here, what the welcomed guests are being given.

"They're encouraging us learn magic. Seems like that maybe isn't the best idea, but...no matter how these people go about what they're doing, they think they're doing the right thing. That's the sense I've gotten. They want our help."

Just not everyone's apparently.

He raises his eyebrows as the flame appears out of absolutely nowhere. That's. Amos remembers being drudged up from the well, the portal to get to the mines, but other than that, he hasn't seen a whole lot of magic here. And those were transportation methods, really. Fire appearing in someone's hand is up close and decidedly different.

So, holy shit.

"You didn't know magic before?" he asks. He's gotten the sense that some people here already came equipped with that knowledge. If Nadine could learn it...

Wonders what he could do with being able to conjure fire. Or whatever else might be possible. That's gonna stick with him, in the back of his mind, for as long as he's here. Shouldn't be possible. Apparently is. It'd be stupid not to do something with it.

That's not even close to his present, though. What is is that the people here think they're doing the right thing. They want people to help. Just... not him. That they'd rather lock him up than have him help. Which, yeah, Amos can't blame them. He wouldn't have even asked for his help for anything to begin with, so if they're stuck with him, prison would be the solution, huh. Still. It's not like it's something he wanted to have happen to him. Not like it's something he wants to think about now that he knows.

He pauses, silent for a moment, expression going blank. Then, voice small, "There are probably better ways to ask for help."

Holden, Naomi; they wouldn't treat people this way. That's all he has to go off of. And, huh. He's never really felt lonely before. But their absence is that much more obvious now, filling the air, solidifying it, could choke him if he didn't know better. So. That fucking sucks.

"I'm from small town New Hampshire, magic barely even exists where I come from." And Amos either knows what 'New Hampshire' is or he doesn't. Nadine figures it's a fifty/fifty tossup at this point. Some people are familiar with Earth, or even come from a similar one to hers. Some are very much not.

"But you're right, there's better ways to ask for help. Like with words and making sure you have consent to bring someone to a whole new dimension. It's amazing how much nicer people are if you just ask. I teach the kids that in first grade."

But again, Nadine thinks it's desperation. Desperation makes people do all kinds of stupid things, even people in authority.

He does lift his head, properly meet Nadine's gaze at New Hampshire. "I was just in New Hampshire," he says, words just coming out. She made note of the lacking technology, magic isn't really a thing for her, she's from somewhere he actually kinda knows.

"Well, just leaving. Before, you know. The well," he clarifies. And, "Magic isn't a thing where I'm from, either."

Nadine might be inadvertently pushing his mind in directions he'd really rather not go in, but there's also something encouraging about talking to someone here he's actually got some things in common with. Someone who might have similar values. He's getting more comfortable with her presence, at least. There's a part of him that was giving up, but there's a part of him that's relaxing, too.

And then she mentions first graders. And.

"You're a teacher?" he asks, expression opening up a little. As much as it does for him, at least, which still isn't a whole lot, but. She's got his attention.

Yeah, Nadine's probably someone to trust, as much as anyone can be trusted here. Even though he doesn't exactly have a lot of options, she seems like a good one, regardless of circumstance. Just gonna keep that in mind.

"Yeah, I was an elementary school teacher in Barnstead, little place a bit outside of Concord. One of those ritzy little towns full of old money, but the private school job was too good to pass up. And my focus was on early childhood, I always wanted to teach the little ones."

And it had paid well, well enough for Nadine to live comfortably enough in a small house of her own - bought, not rented.

"I'd left New Hampshire before coming here, things went bad in my world. In general, all over. There was nothing left me for there, my husband was currently on the other side of the country...I think I was in Nevada before I got pulled here."

Or a bordering state, she's not entirely sure. It had been the desert, she hadn't paid much attention to the road signs. They hadn't been guiding her, she'd followed that thing inside that could feel him, that just knew where he was. That thing that's gone now.

"What were you doing there?"

Always wanted to teach the little ones. Amos can't help but wonder, if only for a second, what life might have been like if he'd had someone like that. There was Lydia, sure, but that wasn't her job. Not exactly something she signed up for. Nadine wanted that.

It's stunning, for that one second, before he drops the thought. Past can't be rewritten. Just glad that maybe people like that do exist.

So Nadine's someone important. Maybe that's why Thorne wanted her here.

His voice turns sardonic at her question. "Getting the fuck out of dodge. Shit went south in my world, too. A friend—" yeah, that's the word he'd use to describe his relationship with Peaches now, isn't it. Also probably isn't going to see her again— "said she thought there might be some shuttles still at Lake Winnipesaukee. Rich people bullshit, I guess. She was right. Got one fixed up and just left Earth before, you know."

A light, barely-there shrug with one shoulder; a faint gesture with the same hand; now he's here. Kind of a rip off, spending all that time trying to get off of a post-apocalyptic Earth, get back to his people, only to pass out at escape velocity and wake up planet-side somewhere else alone and in jail.

"I think we're from two different Earths. Mine didn't have shuttles you could leave on. No one got out before...our big disaster. Disease, no cure, 100% fatality rate. Wiped out most of the world's population. Only a handful of random people were immune."

Something like one percent of the population. Nadine wonders what happened to his Earth, to necessitate leaving the planet. And at the fact that was even possible.

"What year was it for you? I've met some people from different times. I'm from 2020."

This sort of stuff has suddenly become important to specify.

Disease, huh. Yeah, he's never heard about anything like that. Truth be told, his Earth probably could've stood to have some of that, Amos figures. Thin the herd. By a lot. Probably would suck for whoever ended up biting it, but would've solved plenty of other problems.

His face is impassive while Nadine speaks. Reaches up, scratches an itch just behind his ear.

"2350-something. Six? Seven? Not sure on the exact year. Doesn't really matter. Space is fucking huge; takes a while to get from point A to point B. Probably spent a fair share of whatever passes for a new year in transit. Never really noticed."

He takes a second, cocks his head in thought, corners of his mouth quirking upwards slightly. "2020's like ancient history for me. You guys even get off the planet by then?"

"Wow, that's...that's far ahead of us."

Nadine hasn't experienced this yet, everyone she's met has been from the past in some capacity. Or another world entirely.

"Um...we went to the moon a couple of times. And put cameras on Mars." Or something like that, she wasn't entirely sure, the world had ended. "We have some space stations in orbit. Or had...I have no idea what happened with that when Captain Trips hit."

Well that's terrifying to think about, the idea there could have been people in orbit while most of Earth was dying in their own fluids. It hadn't occurred to her before now.

Cameras on Mars? Jesus. Amos frowns slightly. That's like history textbook shit. Or maybe, if he'd ever read anything like that. Hasn't. Past is the past; it's not relevant.

Except it isn't the past for her, so that's weird to think about. A time when having cameras on Mars would be so relevant there'd be a need to mention it. Like everyone on Mars doesn't already have their own personal camera thanks to a terminal.

Far ahead would be an understatement, then.

Captain Trips, on the other hand, is a weird fucking name, unless it's literally about a captain with the last name Trips. Amos is pretty sure that isn't the case. Can't speak to disease naming conventions, though. Only thing he actually can speak to is, well.

"Were your stations self-sustaining?" he asks. Probably not, he figures, being that far back in the past, but not like he actually knows. Hence, the question. "If they were, they were probably fine. If not, then everyone up there's dead from one thing or another. If the air recyclers and water reclaimers held up then starvation would be my guess, but who knows. Systems could've gotten overtaxed."

A shrug. He's been on a dying station before; it happens. Though this is old as shit, so a new thought.

"If there's nobody left to run anything up there then eventually orbital decay'll take over. Might not have any stations anymore."

Wouldn't that be something? A sparsely populated Earth, no need to push up past its atmosphere; no ability to, either. Like a completely different world. Can't say he isn't at least a little curious as to what that'd be like.

"I...I don't know. That's extremely depressing, either way."

And the sort of thing that's normal to think about, even so. Nadine knows this. She'd still rather it weren't the case, she doesn't want to think about that. It's the nature of the universe, like forests. They have to burn, every now and again, to let the new and better growth come in. She thinks that's a lot like Captain Trips, that it had cleared out most of the old so something new could come.

That's all very far away now, though.

"All of it was pretty depressing. So many empty towns, empty cities...deer everywhere. Like in stores and people's houses just...taking over, it looked like sometimes. I walked from New Hampshire to...I don't even know where we were able to actually use a car, but it was a long ways, and it was like being in a real life horror movie. I'd never realized how quiet it could get. Even living in a small town..."

Is it depressing? Shit. Maybe it is. He doesn't really see how — empty spaces, the idea of fucking deer — that all would have sounded amazing to him before the rocks hit. Since they hit, he just knows it's all possible.

Amos shifts his position slightly, comfortable. Resumes leaning against the bars. He's seen people come and go on visits; this once he's actually enjoying, though. Nadine may be from hundreds of years in the past, but they've still managed to find a lot in common, somehow. There's something nice about that.

"Yeah, I did the whole walking thing, too," he says, voice casual. "Just through some protected wooded area along the Chesapeake, but still, that was a few days before we were able to get our hands on some bikes. Hell of a workout if you let it turn into one." A beat. "It was real quiet for us, too. That was a surprise. Lot of people where I'm from, normally. Lotta people got wiped out I guess. Kinda surreal, getting the chance to actually be alone like that."

He pauses, taking a second, debating if he should continue. According to Nadine, it's supposed to be depressing. But it wasn't. So, "Kinda liked that."

"It's amazing how much noise people make. Just all the noise of civilization. Sometimes it was nice, the quiet. The world was a mess anyway, before Captain Trips hit - that's what they called the plague. But then..."

Nadine purses her lips, her mind going back to the trek out of New England with Joe. The haunted feeling places, dead towns and roads, the great silence and solitude of it. The destruction.

"Empty parks in the middle of the day. Corner stores with no local high schoolers hanging around outside. Abandoned playgrounds. I never looked inside anywhere but stores, for preserved food and first aide supplies...except once. I found this little boy in front of a house, he was feverish and had an infected animal bite of some kind. But he wasn't sick, not from the flu, he was like me. Immune for some reason. I had to check, he needed care and clothes and..." She shakes her head, taking a deep breath. "There were more kids inside. They hadn't been immune."

She'd avoided seeing that, until then. She'd known, of course, that all her own students were already gone. The ones she'd been teaching and every one that had ever passed through her class. The little girl down the street. The kids she'd always pass by to pop into the market. But she hadn't seen it until she'd gone into Joe's house.

"I found somewhere else to take care of him."

Yup, Amos is completely on board with her. The world was a mess; something caused a lot of people to die. In her case, a plague; in his, catastrophic rocks. End result probably about the same. He was fine with it. Got off the mudball. Was en route back to his crew. Couple of months added on to his final trip back to Earth, but other than that not a whole lot of harm or foul.

Except then Nadine continues, and Amos feels. Fuck if he knows. Nothing, at first. He gets that the lack of people was upsetting for her; probably wouldn't be bringing it up otherwise. Only there's no way for him to relate to her on that front. It's just descriptions of places. Doesn't really mean anything. He'd tell her as much, let her know they process things differently — that he processes things differently from most people — but.

Something churns in him at the idea of a house full of dead kids. Even if it was just from disease, natural causes, nobody really at fault, nothing to be done about it. Amos swallows thickly, that thing in his throat he can feel building up — not from anything Nadine said, just from being in prison, being away from his people, no idea no direction powerless — making itself all the more known to him. It's a different kind of discomfort. There isn't anything to actually do about it but wait for it to pass.

His voice is hoarse when he speaks again.

"That's good," Amos forces the words out. Swallows again, makes an attempt to clear his throat, a kind of faint... not a growl, but not not a growl coming out. He's got his voice back under control after that. "That you were able to help him. That's good."

Can't help but wonder what he'd have done, if he'd come across a kid while trekking along with Peaches. Just thankful it didn't happen. Thankful that kid had a Nadine. That there are people like Nadine.

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Semi-Open Log

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