redshiftlogs | blue heron leaves the northern sky [closed]

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blue heron leaves the northern sky [closed]

WHO: Charles Smith, Arthur Morgan, and Angel
WHEN: May-ish. After plant-shenanigans, pre-fancy party
WHERE: Quad 001
WHAT: Introductions should probably be made sooner, rather than later.
WARNINGS: Probably mentions of death, violence, body-horror, etc.

Coming from the world they had, a number of strange and unusual things could be rationalized away in the course of settling in. Charles knew that. He had known that the supernatural was a possibility, though he hadn't quite understood the scope of what was actually possible before he was swept out of his home world and dropped into these strange crossroads of the universes.

Arthur, he imagined, did not have any easier of a time processing everything.

Which meant that there were certain aspects that should probably be explained to him before he had a chance to draw his own conclusions.

After Arthur had seen some of that strangeness for himself, Charles had expected a stronger reaction than he wound up getting. It was a relief, truth be told. Arthur accepted, even if he didn't understand. And maybe that could apply to a great many things.

Which just left the matter of some of his new friends, and after having gotten dressed and settled in once again, Charles sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "There's more I should probably...well. Don't know if 'warn' is really the right word."

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She looks to be in about the same shape as they were, after tangling with the monstrous plant outside. But no worse for wear other than a few wounds. The smell of her blood fills the air, but he knows from past experience that he doesn't need to fuss. She heals about as well as he does.

Wait.

Again?

Charles blinks in surprise, before glancing towards Arthur with a puzzled expression. Oh. Well. Another worry all for nothing, it seems like.

Ah. The voice really was familiar. At least he's already met her once, but he also didn't have much time to really think about what he was seeing. This time, he can't quite resist taking all of it in. The legs and horns were so obvious it was all he could see last time, but now ... Her ears are different too. Her eyes. Is that fur around her neck?

"Hey," he says, if only because it's a simple, automatic response to her own greeting. "Guess we didn't get the chance to introduce ourselves. Arthur Morgan. Me and Charles come from the same place."

She has no real way to explain what she is, other than to simply be because all of it was complicated, long and honestly barely made any sense. So she does what any good Pandoran knows how to do - gets on with it all, like it was just business as usual. Sometimes you meet a person because you were fighting an evil murder plant that mimicked the people you loved's voice. Sometimes they were friends of your friends! Sometimes that person had horns and a tail and fur and hooves.

None of that other stuff was important, honestly. Not to Angel anyway.

Instead, she does what someone ought to do with a new friend - or at least should in Angel's opinion - she beams big and wide, she pieces together the rest. "You're Arthur? Charles' Arthur?" And with a few bouncing steps, she tumbles into Arthur in greeting, with a big hug. Fur and her feathery friend squawking at the movement. Loose, not overly demanding or crowding him, but just a firm hello before letting him go - and she is not so tall, closer up, her and her horns tilting away as she cranes to look up at him. Her tail beating a quick beat in it's flicking back and forth against her ankles. "It's so good to finally meet you!"

Much more important than anything else. "I'm Angel. Charles is one of the best people I've ever met, so any friend of his is a friend of mine."

He's not sure whether to be relieved or not. For the moment, it seems like everything's alright. Arthur doesn't look too startled by Angel's appearance -- clearly they've run into each other before, but not long enough to make introductions -- but Angel's forward nature can be uncomfortable for some.

Uncomfortable is still a long ways from afraid. And he ventures a small smile, shaking his head lightly as he watches the two of them, arms folding loosely over his chest.

"The very same."

What he does not expect is to suddenly be hugged. His eyes widen as he raises his hands, and then he just. Stands there, with his mouth open, for the duration of it. His only movement otherwise is to turn his gaze to Charles, almost as though he's asking for help, or answers. Had it lasted a moment or two longer he might have gotten around to returning it, but--

A hug? Why??

"I ..."

Uhhhh.

What just happened.

Angel doesn't note his unsurety, only that she steps back like nothing at all had changed. This was just business as usual. Because for her, in some ways, it was for life to make exactly no sense at the best of times. Reaching up for her bird to jump onto her arm so she can bring it down to scritch across her head gently.

"Don't worry, it gets easier as you go."

Just matter of fact - or blaze, either one was probably applicable. "I won't even be the weirdest thing you'll see. I don't come from Earth, by the way, a lot of people do, though, so you'll have lots in common. I come from Pandora. But Charles said he comes from America. Which is where New York and Boston is? But not London. London is not near New York or Boston. Did I get that right?"

It's a play, as much as it's one to be friendly. Give him familiar things to correct, talk about - rather than... well everything else.

His reaction - or lack thereof - couldn't possibly have gone unnoticed. Now, he isn't used to strangers hugging him, but it might have been ... polite? To hug her back. Apparently it doesn't bother her, though, when she moves right past it like that, so he won't bother feeling awkward or even bad about it.

Not that weirdest thing he'll see? He might have concluded that himself but, at the same time, she's pretty weird.

When she lists different cities, he can't help but chuckle, breathy and quiet but obvious. If he doubted that she wasn't from Earth, that makes him inclined to believe her. It's so ... confused it has to be honest.

"Weren't that close to New York or Boston neither, but London was even further."

So, she got it right.

Angel giggles, letting her bird settle in with a nuzzle against her neck and the side of her cheek in the search for more affection. Warmly petting down its neck absently.

"Honestly, are you sure those aren't all separate planets? The way you guys talk about it they sound light-years apart, not... all on the same sphere."

It's more teasing than anything serious. She knows it's all the same place, but it was to her - just strange.

"The world gets a lot smaller when you have things like spaceships, Angel." Charles speaks up at last, lips curling upwards, as he glances at Arthur. He's glad that, even if he's a little bewildered by her, Arthur seems to be okay with all this.

As okay as he ever is. Sometimes, he can be a little more abrasive than necessary. The bar in Valentine comes to mind, rather quickly for how long ago it all now seems.

Spaceships? As fantastical as Anchor is, he's not even considered what it might entail. Would that be a ship that can travel through space? How would it even get up there? Also--

"The hell's a light year?"

"Light year is how you measure time in space. No planet rotation to measure the year. So we talk it about the pace that light travels. It's very fast, in case you were wondering, it's quite incredible - not that it makes a light year short, but actually, you can quantify it in -"

Thankfully for everyone involved, Angel's bird opens it's caw and lets out a loud shriek, effectively cutting her off. Stop talking! Want food! Hungry! Fiiiiiish!

It distracts her momentarily before she looks concerned up at Charles for confirmation. "Is Fish okay for birds? Or is it like the Tequila for deer thing?" Pet, pet, pet. "Does fishing on Earth involve throwing someone overboard to use their legs as bait?"

A statement that should be more alarming, if he didn't know what her point of reference was. Seriously. Here was hoping they never wound up on Pandora.

"It doesn't usually. Little bit of corn or bread, or worms or crickets if you're going for something larger." His brow wrinkles slightly. "And fish is fine for birds, as long as it's small enough for them to eat or tear up. Though I've also heard you can buy them from stores, as well."

Completely innocent face here.

Does fishing involve what now?

The complete lack of reaction from Charles manages to be equally as mystifying, if not as horrifying, as that question in the first place. Arthur looks between the two of them several times, trying to make sense of this. What kind of place would use anyone's legs as bait? Why is Charles brushing past it like Angel asks questions like this all the time? What kind of place does she come from? What does tequila have to do with deer?

Eventually, his gaze falls on Charles, looking for some kind of explanation to make sense of this.

"That's enough? Just some crickets or worms or bread? It doesn't need to be screaming?" She sounds - frankly unsure like she doesn't really believe him. Which she doesn't.

Fiiiiish! Screeches Murder Princess, helpfully. Of course, the sound it makes isn't so horrible to anyone else, go figure.

"I'll try fish from the store then, I don't know, it feels weird strange feeding animals cooked food or things that aren't raw and screaming." Sigh. But she looks down at her pure and serene bird as it flexes its wings.

"Well if you say so, how does that sound, Princess? Little fish for you to eat? Then you can have eyeballs that are good for you, instead of trying to pick out the Reindire eyeballs and have them try and swat at you. Good, Murder Princess. Much nicer."

"Angel comes from a world that's...a lot stranger than ours. A lot more violent, if you can believe that."

Yes, Arthur, he sees that look. He used to make that face too, before these sort of proclamations from Angel became the norm. "It's full of monsters, and bandits. A lot of strange creatures, and stranger machines."

Then, after a brief pause, he reaches down to his side. Bite's been there for a while now, and he holds up the usually-crafted gun as an example. Anyone who'd spent their life handling a weapon would realize how fantastic it really was, in design.

Sure, he'd had some exposure to it through meeting Angel out on the battlefield, so to speak. Had gotten to hold a weapon that spit fire in his hands. But to be unable to comprehend catching fish without having screaming bait? That's not ingenuity, that's just ...

Terrible.

He looks back at Angel, and shakes his head. Just. No.

.... Oh, shoot. That too.

It's hard. She tries. She really, honestly did try. Charles, Connor and Jacob made her comfortable. A lot more than was necessary sometimes especially when so many of her other conversations ended with the person going blanch white and vaguely ill when she talked too long. They always carried on the conversation as best they could.

( Even if she smiles, at the pride that Charles would go to show the weapon she had made, all by herself. That he still had such regard for it. )

"What Charles is trying to say is that it's filled with cannibals, criminals, and animals that will eat your friends alive on top of you where almost everyone goes crazy in order to survive. I come from the planet Pandora, and we consider shooting each other to be hello, and the only person I know whose more psychopathic than all of them is my Dad."

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blue heron leaves the northern sky [closed]

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