if i stay here, trouble will find me

[unsanguine]

WHO: Hal Yorke and yoooooou
WHAT: One very nervous, very cranky vampire just got here and I don't want to subject everyone to another intropost; pls be gentle. (Or don't. Or don't.)
WHEN: Day 73, eveningish
WHERE: In/around the woods, but probably not far enough in to encounter direwolves or tigers unless someone wants that, and lbr it would be pretty great.
NOTES: Warnings for excessive prissiness.



By his own declaration, Hal cannot live anywhere without central heating, carpets, and Radio 4. So why he has decided to begin the investigation of his new and less than voluntary surroundings in the woods would be anyone's guess, except--he can't do this alone. He's almost sure of it. Has to find someone or something familiar, something grounding before he tips over into the inevitable itch in his teeth, the jagged scraping edges revealed when his routines are flipped on their backs.

To all appearances he's just a pale young man in perhaps his mid-twenties, black jeans and short sleeved black shirt, more buttons done than necessary--in fact that's his general ambience, expression on down, he looks buttoned up, and obviously new.

Also obviously not an outdoorsy person at all, given the faint to ...less faint disgust that blotches his features when he's obliged to like, touch a tree or something else repellant and gross. If Tom is to be found anywhere in this Godforsaken wasteland (which to be fair, that tiny corner of South Wales also was, hence its suitability as a hiding place for Hal) it will be in the woods, he suspects. Retreat to what is normal, that's what most people would do. Hal would take refuge in normalcy too, were it to be had, but he doesn't think he can click his pen or spin the trusty domino in his pocket a single time further without going absolutely mad.

Every sound makes him jump; he is not sure whether that's nerves or hope, the latter of which is surely one of God's little jokes.

Comments

[enchangement]

It's possibly a little silly for River to check up on Ned's tiny garden when she knows that he'll do it himself; however there's something to be said for the comfort of the familiar and the reminder of that one perfect evening when they were both so happy. It helps to press out the confusion of new people and her own nostalgia for voices she's more in tune with.

She'd started to dream that members of the crew of Serenity, living and otherwise, had arrived in Cape Kore. She doesn't know if it is just a dream or a desire or a fear or all three. Maybe she just is homesick. Maybe she is just afraid that they won't go home, or they will and suddenly the little family she's tried so hard to build will be scattered amongst several small infinities and she'll never see them again. What would be better? What would be worse?

Lost in the small universe in her head she doesn't really pay much attention to the new person interacting with other people and things until he approaches closer to Ned's bower ...then she freezes in place, her head filled with the grief and screams of countless deaths over centuries.

She claps both hands over her face in an attempt to chase those images away, to fill them with anything else, and of course what it settles on are the faces of the people that the man is looking for.

Despite the fact that he isn't looking in her direction she knows he knows she's there, so: "Your friends haven't arrived. Apologies, perhaps, but perhaps for the better. There isn't a consensus."

[unsanguine]

Hal has, to be fair, had many a person react to him this way and for good reason, but--it's been quite a long time, and then he'd liked it, it had sent a ripple of power through his sluggish blood, knowing it would soon be quickened by just the person who had been foolish enough to show him their fear.

Now it just makes his stomach turn over. It's as if she's seeing through him, rather than just looking at him; if blood running cold was an expression that applied to Hal in any but the most literal and constant sense, he'd have felt that. He is most certainly looking in her direction by this point.

"I'm sorry?"

Better to engage in polite conversation, rather than shaking her by the shoulders and demanding what she knows. He doesn't do that anymore, isn't that anymore.

At least he doesn't want to be.

[enchangement]

"Are there only three kinds where you're from? No one who can see the past written on a soul?" River gives a full-body shudder before drawing in a breath. "It doesn't matter. You are sorry, behind us and beyond us and we won't discuss it.

Your friends, however, the boy with the scars and the soft smile and the woman who has died and is living again, almost corporeally, they aren't here. Would have noticed, would have heard. But a promise, I'll make a promise to you now: if they do, I will tell you, and I will tell them, and you'll be centered and stable and a whole thing again."

She looks away, running one of her hands over a random flower near her knee. "Nice to meet you, Hal."

[unsanguine]

Hal ...gapes a while, head tilted, brows attempting to decide whether or not they want to escape from his face entirely. "I--"

He's moved, for one thing, barely beating heart doing its best to skip, or stop, or any number of other things it can't do. Those reactions, figurative or literal, tend to be reserved for hearts in human chests. "I've only the barest idea what you're talking about," he decides upon, eventually, since that is both true and at least a modicum of politeness. "But I do appreciate--er. The effort."

A whole and centered and stable thing, he imagines, suddenly wistful and looking now as if he might be considering smiling, his face just isn't quite sure how to reach the expression. "Tom and Annie? The three like us?"

Excuse him, he's ...parsing slowly.

[enchangement]

"Three like you. Tom and Annie and Hal. The first and most important prime number. Perfect triads, perfect for balance; three legs stabilizes an object while four makes it immovable and two tends to topple to one side or the other. Three, san to sheng, past, present, future, three observational spatial dimensions, the triple codon system." River's face lights up the further she goes in, the fear and shock from earlier dissipating like fog under the heat of a noonday sun. "Three canals for balance, in the ear, three main galaxy classifications ...oh three is a good number. Can't complain too much then that there are no real psychics.

Here," and she says this as if she's conspiring with Hal a bit, slightly bent in his direction and stage-whispering, "there are more. One, two, and many. Not as simple and balanced as where you're from."

A shrug as she straightens herself up. "Most people only have the barest idea and it is still uncertain who adapts more quickly, she or they. So you may get used to it, the way I speak, or I may learn how to say things easier for you to hear and follow. Don't feel bad. Not a flaw on your behalf."

She smiles, softly. Yes, Hal has done terrible things but he is also fighting it every step, every moment. She can admire that. She can't do that at all, herself. "Would you like mint? Do you drink tea? Coffee is not always easy to find."

[unsanguine]

When given the choice to address either quantum physics or whether or not he drinks tea, Hal decides to indulge the headache erupting behind his eyes (vampires shouldn't really still get headaches, but then most of them aren't constantly under 500 years worth of stress) and go with the latter.

Although he did snort a bit at the idea that things where he was from were either easy or balanced. That's just him being occasionally thoughtless and therefore inadvertently lacking in manners. "I prefer coffee when I can find it. Usually with a splash of cold water--"

He's kind of impressed with his own calm, actually! "--but at this moment in time I can't think of a less relevant piece of information. I do drink tea. Are you some sort of welcoming committee?"

Because what else would possess a person to go out of her way like this. Allow me to provide you with hot beverages, sir, despite your horrifying past!

[enchangement]

"Coffee is harder." Currently the largest quantity of coffee she knows of is in Erik's hands and she won't be attempting to take any of it back, thank you very much. "More rare, in the moment, in the obtaining."

She kneels, quickly, grabbing a handful of mint and then presenting it triumphantly before ...well, before realizing he doesn't have a teapot, or cups, or idea really so maybe she should do something about that. Something a little more helpful. "Hope not." Is she? Probably not. "No one would understand anything, they have a hard time enough as it is. No we can't escape, yes we're stuck here too, ad infinitum." She pulls a face and starts off back towards town.

"You think 'out of her way' and I think someone should keep eyes and tabs and kindness on you until another of your third arrives." Hopefully they will, because Hal needs ...a lot. Something she can understand, being a somewhat messed up needy thing herself. "What else am I doing? Come on."