closed. // spun like the spell you spin

[littlemissfutility]

WHO: Beth Greene, Wysteria Poppell, Ellis
WHAT: Beth comes out of a rift, promptly freaks.
WHEN: Early Cloudreach
WHERE: Outside Kirkwall
NOTES: Violence, other notes tbd

Here are the things Beth remembers: The hard metal of surgical shears, made warm from her skin. The fabric of Dawn's uniform against her hand. And an explosion of sound, the incomprehensible crack of a gun right beside her before everything stops.

That's it. But it's enough that she can piece together why she opens her eyes and she's not in a hospital anymore. Muddy ground, a green glow that's so acidic it doesn't look real, the smell of grass and saltwater--someplace outside, somewhere she's never seen before. There's a screeching that puts chills down her neck, and then she realizes that she's actually cold. And something else, hooded and swooping down at her like an angry crow, tattered fabric flapping around it as it comes at her.

She doesn't scream, but it's a near thing, her breath catching painfully in her throat. (You can't scream, more will come.) Fumbling for her knife--the shears are long gone, stuck in the chest of a woman she hopes to God is dead--she stabs at the creature. It gets close enough that she can see its face is hideous, worse than walkers. Its breath is freezing, its claw-like hands sharp at the tips, and all she can think (besides don't scream, don't scream) is I thought Hell would be warmer.

Comments

[littlemissfutility]

"We...don't really work for people. Not anymore." For the most part, anyway--she can't think of much she'd like to get into less than the exceptions.

Maybe Shield is what someone calls their group, though. If you were living in a police station, it'd be a pretty good name.

[heirring]

"Oh, my apologies!" Wysteria hastily interjects, immediately reverting to that fidgeting, flighty state at Ellis' elbow. "I shouldn't wish you to think that you looked as if you required a profession. That was very rude of me."

Imagine. Have to keep a job. How very poor.

"Well no matter. My meaning is that we are very familiar with Earth and that you will hardly be alone once we return to the Gallows. --Which is the name of the fortress which Riftwatch occupies. It is a very grim name for the thing, but I believe nothing can be done to change it as it is one of those very old institutions and you would never successfully convince anyone it had been renamed even if you tried to."

[heorte]

"Aye, you're not the first," is Ellis' quiet contribution, before advising, "The templar tower has hot water."

Because presumably that'll be more relevant to Beth when they arrive.

[littlemissfutility]

"That's not what I--" she starts to say, in the space between Wysteria's comments, but it drops quietly away. Maybe it's better if that's what they think: I'm just that rich, jobs still exist and I don't want one.

Something about the idea makes her throat ache like she might cry again, but Beth doesn't want to think about the why right now. There's other things to figure out, anyway, small things and large. Why she's here instead of nowhere, whether she should really be tagging along with the first people she meets and assuming they mean well, just what a provost is.

Instead, she says, tentative, "Hot water sounds good. Do I, um, owe you anything? For helping me."

[heirring]

"Owe us?" Wysteria's laugh is a thing that's more baffled than it is truly humorous--brief and lopsided as she sets to dusting off the front of her skirts. They're not really particularly dirty, but it gives her something to occupy her hands with.

"Not at all. Although Mister Ellis and I need to fetch the stakes scattered about this field from where they've been planted and collect them all to return to that bag there. If you like, you may help us fetch them, and then we may be on our way back to Kirkwall. We have been measuring the Fade energy which was emitted by your Rift and they are part of the instruments we use to do it. It would hardly do to leave them and three sets of hands at the work will be much better than two."

[heorte]

"Aye, we'll make quick work of it together," Ellis agrees. He touches Wysteria's elbow briefly, drawing her attention to him as he nods towards the far end of the field. "I'll start there, and the pair of you can gather the ones to the left and right. They're nearer."

Normally, Ellis would gather them himself. But he thinks Beth and Wysteria both would benefit from some minor task at the moment. Wysteria's offer is a useful one.

[littlemissfutility]

Wysteria looks at her like she's crazy, so that's...something, Beth thinks. (Or hopes.) Still, she keeps all of this lodged in the back of her mind: two people came to get her, they helped her kill a demon, they helped her close up the tear she came through. What that's worth, she's not sure, but it's not nothing--even if they don't look like they want her to pay up right now.

"Okay. Sure." She's saying it more to herself than them, even if she doesn't quite sense as much. This still doesn't feel real. Her hand moves again to the scarred skin under her jaw, knuckles brushing up against it. "Um--thanks."

Anyway, she'll go start picking up these stakes.

[heirring]

Wysteria hesitates for just a moment as Beth moves off as directed, attention flicking from the stakes to the girl and then finally to Ellis where her expression becomes wide eyed and all eyebrows as if to silently communicate 'Well this is strange and terrible, isn't it? Would you rate this higher or lower than the bird girl?' or perhaps 'How very fascinating that someone has arrived because of some mortal wound rather than by dreaming; when do you think might be an appropriate time to interrogate her about the details?' all through the sheer force of her expression.

And then she looses herself, trotting gamely off to fetch to the righthand stakes, calling out to the world at large, "Let us be quick about it for I should like very much to return to the Gallows and have myself a hot bath before it gets too late."

Good work, everyone.