abraxaslogs | Open Log - Thorne Castle

Entry tags:

Open Log - Thorne Castle

Who: Nadine and OPEN
Where: Thorne Castle
When: June 12th and 13th
What: Meeting roommates, getting acclimated, exploring
Warnings: N/A, will add if needed

Exploring

There's little to do but poke around wherever they're allowed to poke around. And, while at it, slip out a few sweets from the dining hall to share with the less fortunate. Nadine made a promise, after all.

But there's plenty to see, in this area they're kept to. The library and the study hall are of the most interest, the books and practicing mages likely the most promising option for learning anything worthwhile. Their hosts are being very specific with what they say and what they don't, offering just enough information to avoid accusations of keeping everyone entirely in the dark. But still not sharing all they know, it's obvious there's much more going on than any newcomer is privy to.

That's alright. It's not ideal but it's alright. Nadine has her purpose to put herself towards, and she does. She can be found flipping through book after book in the library and muttering under her breath or quietly watching magic lessons in the study hall, eyes narrowed and lips pursed as she follows as best she can.

And of course, she makes sure to linger in the dining hall, idling by the offerings of food and perusing them seemingly casually. When she thinks she isn't being watched, she'll slip a small morsel of dessert or chocolate treat into her tunic sleeve.

Room 2

The idea of shared quarters is not one that Nadine is thrilled about. She'd already met one earlier, and somehow, through some blessed - or cursed - twist of fate, it's a friendly face. Sort of. She'd never met Lloyd before but she knows who he is, and any right hand of her husband's...he's on her side, is the point. Someone she can, to some extent trust. And who'll look out for her.

But there are two beds who's occupants she's yet to meet, and she's too pragmatic to imagine they'll be left empty. Especially now, the day winding down. It's been a hectic and long one, and Nadine's feeling it in her bones. She settles on her own bed, curtains open, and hands folded in her lap to contemplate her next move and wait for whoever she's stuck sharing her personal space with.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ » continued ]

That's exactly what Eddie would do if Susannah had shown up down here. Make jokes, brush it off, act like he's not bothered, for her sake. And then, of course, she would give him that look she's mastered so well, call him white boy in the half-chiding, half-fond way he loves her for, and then who could blame him for capitulating, for breaking down and letting her see the ugly truth of it, which is that he feels so completely goddamn hopeless already?

"Well, that's good of him," Eddie says charitably. "For my part, I'd say this place is pretty damn miserable but if you're an optimist it's not so bad. Food's alright and we got these fantastic outfits, too, that's a real fuckin' boon."

A pause, where it's obvious that Eddie's deciding whether or not he should say something, and then he decides to throw caution to the wind. "If she's up there, my wife, if you see her..." he begins haltingly, trailing off for a moment. "Could you tell her I'm down here? She's hard to miss. Beautiful black lady, she'll be in a wheelchair, missing her legs above the knees. Susannah's her name, Susannah Dean."

"Yeah, of course, I'll keep an eye out for her." It's the least Nadine can do. Eddie seems nice, and she can imagine how frustrating it must be to be stuck in a cell like this, after being hauled into this strange world. If she happens to run into his wife, she's glad to pass along the message and make sure they find one another.

Besides...it's always a good idea to have people remember you did them a favor. Who knows what's coming?

"If there's anything else I can do...obviously I can't do much, but if you want a cookie or something, I can probably manage that."

"You got cookies up there?" Eddie's tone turns resentful, too resentful to be genuine, verging into a little bit of theatrics. He can't help it – the potential promise of seeing Susannah, even if Nadine really can't find her and this all comes to nothing, is perking him up a little. "Damn. How the other side lives. What kinda cookies?" His eyes narrow. "If it's that bullshit with raisins and oatmeal you can stick your cookies where the sun don't shine. That's just the kind of fucked-up shit that Ambrose prick would love, I bet."

"They have all kinds of stuff up there. I probably ought to be more worried about eating it than I am, I know my fairy tales and myths, but..." Nadine shrugs. She needs to eat and she's pretty sure their captors don't need to enchant food to keep them here. Sometimes you just have to take the gamble.

"And hey, don't shame the noble oatmeal cookie. A couple of soft oatmeal cookies and hot tea on a rainy day is balm for the soul. You've clearly just never had a good one. The kind with chocolate chips instead of raisins."

Kylo stalks into the room like he owns it— certainly sparing no real thought for the possibility someone else might have claimed their bed in his absence— and with his connection to the Force muted as it is, it remains a genuine surprise when he finds himself very much not alone. His overlarge bulk draws to a smooth halt, eyes dark and expression vaguely sullen as he turns his head to face this latest curiosity: another of his roommates.

He is not, it appears, a huge fan of these shared living arrangements.

"The World," he comments, because regular greetings are for other people. His eyes narrow slightly. "You are the first I've seen."

Oh. Well.

This doesn't look promising. Nadine maintains a neutral expression as the strange man comes into the room. He's big, he's unfamiliar, and he doesn't look thrilled. Not that she imagines anyone who's been kidnapped to this place is, but it still stands out to her. This is the sort of person that, should she see him on the sidewalk late at night, she'd start faking a phone call and have her keys in her free hand. Except they're not on an empty street late at night, they're in her bedroom. Their bedroom, she supposes. Whoever came up with rooming arrangements apparently hadn't been paying much attention to the fine details.

"I'm the only one I've seen so far," she responds, after giving the newcomer a once over. She stays where she's seated, hands tightly gripped together in her lap. "I'm Nadine. Are you...staying here, too?"

Maybe he's just looking for someone.

"Kylo Ren," he replies.

For all his aura of vague, directionless menace, Kylo does at least seem to know better than to stalk any closer. He watches her size him up, then gestures to the bed she's perched on.

"And I thought that was my bed."

Not that it really matters. There are three others, and Kylo can just as easily take any one of them. Mostly, he's just curious. Will she surrender it or hold her ground?

As she suspected, his name means nothing to her.

Nadine glances at the bed she's sitting on and back to the man who's name was Kylo Ren. Unless one of those is a title, she knows better to assume. There are people from all different worlds here, not just Earth.

The specifications of the sleeping arrangements raise an eyebrow. She doesn't care one way or another which bed is 'hers', they're exactly alike as far as she can see. But the fact he brought it up is something to take note of.

"Kind of hard to tell, when we don't have any things to mark what's ours. If it matters, I can take another one. I think they're all the same. I just took this one because it's next to my friend's."

And she wants to stick close to Lloyd. With Flagg locked up downstairs, he's...pretty much all she has here.

Ronan stalks into the room at an odd hour, when just about everyone else is on their way out of the sleeping quarters and headed off to do something productive. His bed was empty all night, which means he either found company elsewhere or he's only just now returning to get some rest.

He looks like he could use it, too. He seems unwell, an unhealthy shade of pallid with deep circles under his eyes. He's technically very tall but something about him suggests that he's wilting, shoulders sagged, like an unwatered plant. Given the shaved head and the days-old stubble and the sharp claws of a black tattoo snaking up the back of his neck, maybe he's just a drug addict jonesing for a fix. His new tunic — The Moon — is already torn in a few places, like he's been in a fight.

When he notices her, he freezes. No one was supposed to be in here. Certainly not a woman.

"Shit," he hisses, in a gravelly voice that suggests he was recently strangled. "Is this the wrong room? I can't tell the fucking difference between them."

The phrase 'look at what the cat dragged in' is one Nadine heard often growing up. And this guy? Is pretty much exactly what that phrase was coined to describe. He looks rough. Like a street fighter just in from a night of illegal back alley boxing. She's not going to ask.

He also seems vaguely mortified at finding her here. That's...slightly promising, at least.

"I...don't know. But I've met the other two people who are sleeping here, so you might be in the right place after all. Apparently the land of Thorne is very pro-coed arrangements. Or someone made a mistake and didn't know 'Nadine' is a woman's name."

Because if this man - another intimidating, imposing looking stranger - is rooming her, Nadine is officially the only woman in this room.

"This is Room Two."

Ronan, fully aware that he is an intimidating stranger alone with a woman in a bedroom, glances over his shoulder while he considers moonwalking right out the door. But he mutters, "Yeah, Room Two is where I'm supposed to be."

It's obviously not an ideal situation for him, either. Dorms have never been the best place for him, and now they're co-ed, too? Shit. Fuck. Maybe he should volunteer for a cell in the dungeons.

He's so fucking hungry.

Dragging his gaze back to Nadine, he sighs in defeat, "I'm Ronan. Sorry about this bullshit."

"It's not like it's your fault."

As discomforting as both Nadine's unknown roommates are, she can't blame either of them for the situation. They didn't ask to be here, they didn't pick this room. They were all in the same metaphorical boat, at the whims and wants of their power-holding kidnappers.

"You had about as much say in it as I did. Trust me, my husband's down in the dungeon, I'd really prefer different arrangements altogether. But..."

She shrugs and spreads her hands. What can they do?

His haggard state is not lost on her. She purses her lips, looking him over again. The phrase 'dead on his feet' jumps into her mind, and she finds it just as fitting as the first.

"Can I...get you anything?"

That question makes Ronan reach for his face, like he's checking for a nosebleed. When he finds nothing leaking out of him, he gives a jerked shake of his head.

She says none of this is his fault, but he's not so sure. If she knew what he could do, she probably wouldn't be so sure, either. For a second, he considers warning her, just so she can get a head start on fucking off if things go sideways. But he doesn't have a read on her yet. Maybe she's the kind of chick who would put a pillow over his head when the paralysis hits.

"You haven't seen the other guy around here, have you? Taller than me, cool scar, Pantene-commercial hair?"

He should have told Kylo when to meet him. Scheduled sleep just isn't something he's had to think about in a while.

"I've met him, but I couldn't tell you where he is now." A thought comes to her, and Nadine looks up curiously. "Did you two know each other already?"

Maybe that's a factor. While she didn't know Lloyd, exactly, there was a connection. It's something to consider, at least. How many people came from the same places, how many knew each other before getting pulled into this world.

"No," Ronan answers, though he wishes they had. "I met him right after I got here. He's supposed to help me with something."

But he doesn't want to get into the what of it all, so he carries on swiftly, "You showed up here with your husband? And they locked him up? That's fucked up."

No wonder she looks so sad. If Adam was in a cell, he'd probably burn the whole place to the ground.

...Fuck. That stings.

"Oh. I just thought...I sort of know our third roommate, we're from the same place, so I thought maybe that had something to do with it." But apparently not. The two scary guys were just fast friends.

"And yeah, it's not great. He's okay, though." As okay as anyone could be when locked in a cell, she supposes. Getting him out is her priority, but there's only so much she can do. "I've been down to see him. But they won't even say why, exactly, they're keeping those people down there. Or what they're going to do with them."

Any of them, really, but Nadine can recognize that she and her roommates are in a better starting position than the unlucky in the cells.

Ronan has a pretty clear idea what would happen to him down in that dungeon. He shouldn't have even visited. Just a few minutes down there felt like it cut his time in half. He touches his nose again, but there's still no sign of the nightwash. Soon, though. He can feel it coming for him soon.

"Three people from your world," he muses. "I'm the only one from mine, far as I know." Probably a blessing, all things considered. Is there anyone left who wants to see him survive?

That line of thought exhausts him further. He drags himself over to his bed and leans against it. He can't get too comfortable. Can't sleep yet. Nadine looks so breakable. Or does he only think that because she looks like his mother?

"You don't have a gun or anything, do you? A sword or some shit?"

Nadine gives Ronan a flat look before answering.

"...I'm an elementary school teacher from New Hampshire. I don't make it a habit of carrying around swords or guns." Usually. A few months ago she would have said she'd never even fired a gun, let alone carried one around. That's not so true these days, but no one needs to know it.

"Besides they took everything away from us, I didn't even have clothes when they pulled me into this world. And I think magic trumps guns anyway."

"It's not personal," Ronan drawls. "I'm from Virginia. Even the grannies at church are packing."

On the bright side, he doesn't have to worry about her shooting him in his sleep. Magic trumps guns under most circumstances, as Ronan has proven repeatedly over the past few months, but when the magician can't move, a bullet is perfectly effective.

"Have you learned any magic yet, since you're such a big fan?"

"I just meant that if you're planning on fighting back, I don't think a gun is going to do it." She doesn't blame him for wanting to, she isn't happy with the people of Thorne herself. They've taken her away from her life, separated her from her husband, and removed even the ever-present link between them. Nadine's angry. But practical enough to realize she can't do anything about it yet.

Yet.

"But I've been studying it, I wouldn't say I've learned all that much...I can probably light a cigarette without a lighter, but that's about it."

And it takes a great deal of effort.

"Not having any cigarettes, I can't really test the theory though."

Impressive. She's pegged him for a terrorist already. That's got to be some kind of record.

"Do I look like I'm fighting anything anytime soon?"

Nevermind that he looks like he lost at least one fight very recently. Ronan checks his nose again. Still nothing dripping out of him. Small mercies.

"I wanna see what you can do."

"Honestly? You look like you already were."

There's nothing accusatory in the words, just a simple pointing out of the obvious. He looks like he's been fighting with someone or something. Nadine wouldn't be surprised if he had plans of doing it again. Everybody had their skills, maybe Ronan's was his fists. She's not about to judge, not in circumstances like these.

"I don't blame you, at all. If I thought I was in any position to fight back, I probably would too." She hasn't exactly been silent in her displeasure, though her questions and concerns have all been brushed off.

"As for the magic, it's really not that impressive. And nothing the mages training in the training hall aren't doing..." She shrugs, but stands up anyway. She's not sure if she can do it sitting down, so far it seems like how she stands and how she holds her hands matters. At least now.

It's not that he feels responsible for her, exactly, but he does think it's his duty to keep an eye on Nadine. He doesn't know what she's fully capable of, only because he doesn't know her all that well. Not outside of being Flagg's wife, and she hadn't really been in Vegas all that long before shit went down. Lloyd does have to admit that he feels at least a little bit protective of her. Though she wouldn't have gotten this far in life without being at least a bit resilient. It's a tough old world and the weak don't survive for long.

Lloyd isn't really looking for her exactly, but he's not going to ignore her if he sees her. She's hunched over a book, deep in concentration when he sidles up behind her, hand resting on the back of her chair.

"You stare any harder and you're gonna get laser vision." He points to his eyes and down to her book, making a small explosion noise.

Ronan doesn't deny that he's been fighting, but he doesn't correct her assumption about the target, either. He's got the sense its best to play his cards close to his chest.

He suspects she's doing the same.

Leaning forward, Ronan fixes his attention on what she's doing with her hands. "I haven't even tried this shit yet," he confesses, "so at least you're better than I am."

Nadine jumps with a start when Lloyd speaks, so very close to her. She had been absorbed in the book and hadn't noticed his approach. Probably not the best idea, around here. She laughs - a little nervously, the surprise still fresh - shaking her head and looking up at him.

"I'm just trying to learn everything I can. Not that these are particularly helpful, but...I figure there has to be something." Even little things. Enough little things made a bigger picture eventually.

But for now she closes this particular volume and sets it aside. Her eyes are starting to ache anyways, and she's pretty sure she's not retaining much at this point. There's a lot of books and she doesn't have any other pressing engagements.

"What have you been up to?"

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 5

Open Log - Thorne Castle

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

room 2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject