riverview | Voice. (possible action outside of the wall)

[It's been... a hell of a last two weeks for Laura. She had woken up with a chunk of memory inexplicably gone, uninjured as always, and yet — the faintest scent of blood under her scrubbed nails. She wasn't in a hospital, but some big room with heavy doors and Linda the social worker; her head was bandaged, her look one of bone-deep concern as she sits beside the girl.

Oh. The memory of her recapture sits heavy in her gut. The collar, the chair, the network recording, just before everything vanished from her mind. Linda runs a hand through her hair and explains things basically: Shiloh came, he took her, and he used something on her to control her. But it's fine now — all fine, his body was found, he can't do anything anymore.

Laura looks tiredly skeptical at the whole thing. She asks if she killed anybody. Linda dodges the question, which is answer enough. "We just... what he used might still be in effect, so we're making sure you're back to yourself." Linda knows her bad history with rooms like this. Maybe it's why it's so big and spacious.

But she stays, and days pass, and she's not sure what happens outside. She just knows people are dead, and she hasn't any clue who. There's something terrifying about not remembering if you took a life, even if such an act is too easy for someone like her.

When she's finally cleared to leave, there's a paranoia in her that maybe she isn't.

So she steers clear and packs a bag and runs away into the woods. But she at least leaves Linda little note this time, so she doesn't pull her hair out panicking. Out there where she can find comfort in isolation, she makes herself known on the network; she doesn't use text. It feels like an easy out.]

I do not remember... what happened. I know a man did something to make me hurt people, but...

[A pause, heavy and unsure how to proceed; but the guilt is there to carry her forward.]

I am sorry for any pain or suffering I caused.

I will be staying outside the wall for a little while, to make sure I am not a danger.

[She thought she'd maybe figure out something to say after that, but...

Her mouth just sort of freezes there.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Laura starts along her way, too, a little tired — not physically, really, but mentally. It had been so much to handle, and the silence and fresh air has done wonders, even with the potential dangers. She would hate for Gyda to get hurt coming out to see her, though—

But when she finally comes into view, Laura's nose works faster than anything else.

She hesitates at a distance, expression dropping sadly.]

... You — did not tell me I hurt you.

[The stitches ache, but other than holding her bag, it's nothing she can't bear, and riding was easy enough. She pulls up by the wall, surprised when Laura makes her observation, but then realizes she would be able to smell the closed wounds.]

You're feeling bad enough as it is, and like I said earlier, you weren't yourself. I'm not going to stop being friends because some other man's schemes.[She didn't think there'd be any point in mulling over what wasn't in Laura's power at the time.]

[She got off the bike.] Yes, I was hurt, but I was fast enough that there's nothing fatal and nothing that won't heal.

[Rubbing her arm, she steps closer. With a measure of wariness, of course.]

I am still very sorry.

[She doesn't apologize often, but for Gyda, she leaves plenty of room to.]

You're... very strong, and brave. I'm glad you could fight back.

[The pack she's holding looks heavy, but she's used to the load and only flinches a little when the stitches pull at her side.] I'm sorry too. You should've had your revenge against the man who did this, but he's already dead.

[She did smile at the compliment.]My brother made me learn, just before he left. Also, I had assistance from the one called squirrel girl.

[She wasn't as fast as Luara, but there was some pride in being able to hold her own.] Let's go.

That was smart of them, to teach you. In a calm place like this, it's easy to forget there are dangers that are bigger than just rude people.

[She glances at the pack.]

Would you like me to carry it a little ways?

Our home wasn't exactly safe, even for people who didn't fight in raids. [Even when she stayed at home, there was always the risk of an attack. She'd lived long enough to know that.]

[She frowned, wanting to say that it wasn't heavy, but then she also knew she wouldn't want to have to go to the clinic again either.] Maybe just halfway.

[Laura nods; judging from her reaction, she would have respected just about whatever Gyda had replied with. She knows what it's like, when you want to handle things on your own. Be strong. Be prepared. Relying on others, it can cause problems.

... She's gotten better at accepting help, though.]

My home isn't very safe, either.

Your time is a dangerous one?

[Carefully, she handed Laura her pack, before taking hold her bike. For ease's sake, she planned on walking the rest with her.]

It is. My father's earl back home, and I'm told at one point he will become king of Denmark. All of that means having enemies, and even before then, when we were farmers, outlaws would sometimes attack our home while the men were gone, thinking we were defenseless.

[They weren't, her mother saw to that, but it didn't make her world any less dangerous.]

... I met some farmers. In my world.

[She looks away, shrugging the backpack on more securely.]

They were good people. They had horses, and they ate dinner at a table together. Good dinners.

Truthfully, I'd hate to think of a world without farming. Even with more advanced ways of growing food, it would still be considered a farm.

[She frowned, walking with her, holding the bike by the handles and moving forward.] What happened to them?

[Laura glances at her, and for a moment she's not sure if she should tell her the sad facts. But it's their fault it happened, and Gyda deserves some honesty after what happened, doesn't she?]

... We were being chased by people who wanted to cage or kill us.

They took us in for the night on their farm, and were caught in the middle of it.

[Somehow, Gyda couldn't say she was surprised when Laura told her this. The girl was more used to a more modern era' than she was, but she was a stranger in other things, and how she reacted to situations spoke of someone more used to violence and hiding than someone who was more sheltered.]

That sounds nearly like what happened to us back home. The earl was mad at father for one reason or another, and he sent his men to our farm. We only escapes because mother was able to sneak us away to a boat to hide while father distracted them.

[Her voice was steady but still distance. The attack was nearly two-three years ago, but it was still fresh.] The other people living nearby weren't so lucky.

[Laura nods at the tale; so, she understands. She knows what it's like, to be the cause in some indirect way, and to be the survivor while others perished. Strange, how often these terrible things seem to happen. But then, she had spent too much time in Transigen, unaware of the world out there.]

I felt... guilt. I still feel guilty.

If we did not come into their lives, they would be safe.

You didn't tell the bad people to chase you,especially not to the farm. [She tried her best to console her friend.] They would've done so to where ever you stayed. You needed a safe place to stay, and this family tried to offer it to you even though you were a stranger.

[There wasn't much else she could say in the matter. Terrible things always happened, even to good people.]

[A nod. She does understand that — it wasn't her choice to be followed.

It's still hard to separate their deaths from Laura's existence, in a way.]

They were very good people. I wish I could have done something. I did try to.

[But she ended up in metal restraints, so that — didn't go according to plan.]

You're doing something now. You're remembering what they did for you, and honoring them that way.

[There was little point in saying anything else. Laura was skilled, but now Gyda knew well enough she wasn't all-powerful; she was just one girl against what had to be a small army.] In the end, that's all everyone ever is, is stories.

[They were leaving the perimeter now and entering the woods. To talk of defense, part of Gyda's pack ways a bow and arrow-something both for defending as well as hunting. The last thing she wanted was for her friend to do all the work.]

[Laura looks back, interested in the thought.]

You think when we are gone, people will tell stories here?

Edited 2018-11-01 08:10 (UTC)

Voice. (possible action outside of the wall) | un: ilikehorses

action

Re: action

action

Re: action

action

Re: action

action

Re: action

action

Re: action

action

Re: action

action

Re: action

action

Re: action

action