auroraexpress | (no subject)

[Nauseous: yes. Confused: definitely. Scared...? Not yet, anyway. Depending, this could be a good thing. Sort of. Probably not but there's no harm in keeping an open mind.

The pajamas on the other hand really have to go. He's already switched into white jeans and a sweater by the time he wanders down. Seeing other people is honestly a relief, but he's still going to put his guard up.]

Good Evening.

[Is it evening? He doesn't know, man, but he's not the type to let himself look anything but composed..]

Oh- good evening. Is it evening, I wonder...

[at least this stranger looks small and soft and... generally harmless, really. he was sort of wandering around the lower level looking every which way at the furnishings and things.]

If it isn't, we should probably be concerned about the darkness.

[Although like by that measure the utterly black sky should also be concerning which, actually, it is.]

...Actually, we should be concerned about the darkness regardless, but as there's nothing else to tell us the time, "evening" it shall be.

Should we?

[Sounds. Legitimately confused by that statement. But now that he's considering it, he supposes he doesn't have a good basis to not think anything of the blackness...]

[Wait. Now he's even more confused.]

...Should we... not? There are no stars.

Well, yes? Isn't that... [trails off.] ...I'm sorry, I think I'm just confused. I don't remember how I got here or, well, anything at all.

--Nothing?

[Okay that's even weirder than thinking there's nothing wrong with a blank sky. Not that amnesia is exactly unheard of where he's from but it's suspicious in context. He's not sure whether to believe it, actually.]

Nothing. I mean, obviously I know how to speak and dress myself and that the sky is... things like that. But I can't recall my name, or where I was before I went to sleep...

Hm. I've no such gaps in memory, aside from the matter of how I got to be here. I wonder why that is?

...I wonder. Perhaps I hit my head on the way here?

[Reaches up to feel at his skull for sore spots. He doesn't appear particularly surprised by his own ears in the process, so those are probably normal for him.]

Perhaps you did.

[Rufus is trying to ignore the ears. He's only seen something like them once or twice in his life, but it wouldn't do to look less than composed.]

The answer likely lies in the source of this recording.

[Mr. Amnesia doesn't seem to find anything, going by the lack of wincing before he gives up and lowers his arms.]

With, ah... with "his highness"? [he doesn't know who this ~prince of stars~ is, but he doesn't want to be rude.] I would like to ask him what he meant by malice and all that...

As would I. Surely if he went to the trouble of gathering us, he didn't intend us to be trapped with no information or power.

Yes, he didn't sound very "malicious" himself... and it seems most of us are unharmed.

[in fact, they're very well accommodated for a bunch of kidnapped people.]

Precisely why I'd like to speak to him further. I'm willing to at least believe there is a conflict, and we were meant to help with it. The rest, however, leaves me suspect.

["Suspect". And oh, right, that is what the announcement was saying. It's only just now that he's considering that along with the, uh, amnesia thing. What if that's intentional, to make them more obedient? Or something?? But it's only him, and he's hardly a particularly useful looking person...]

...I think I will play along for now, since I can't say either way as it is. [but getting more info sooner rather than later is definitely the ideal.] Maybe someone else on this... train? Can direct us to his highness.

(no subject)

ruinatings - 2018-11-19 19:17 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

unperturbed - 2018-11-20 00:18 (UTC) - Expand

( Wandering down will prove at least one other person was so deeply offended by the pajamas that they were ditched, especially when it was in favor of lined leggings and an oversized sweater, keeping her infinitely warmer.

It's a good thing their common area has a fireplace, and one with a working flue and chimney— Angela's started a fire to brew some coffee over, or whatever nearest equivalent she could find in the kitchen below, with some of the perishables brought out with her on a large tray.

Look. She can't cook anything exquisite, but she's spend enough time around campfires in the middle of nowhere to be able to toss meat and vegetables in a skillet over a fire and poke them around. Cooked foods will last longer and they can all worry about storing anything left over later. This is preemptive in case they can't restore power, but first she has to kick back this nausea and see who else is stirring in the car. When one of them appears, the way she turns to look his way is just this side of startled, no matter how easily she smiles. )

Good evening indeed. There is a bit of tea here if you'd care to join me. Coffee is in the kettle now.

I see you've made yourself at home.

[He's... surprised. Although maybe she's just been here longer than him. Who knows! He supposes he'll find out, but for now he's carefully approaching to settle down in one of the honestly very comfortable chairs.]

Have you been here long? It feels a little odd to get comfortable in what seems to be an emergency.

I've had little choice.

( She has none of her usual supplies at hand, and there's little nanites can do for nausea that has nothing to do with stomach acid production or ulcers. It's admitted with an apologetic look as she tips a hand toward the teapot and cups set aside, hoping the blend was as calming for others as it had been for her. It could as well have been that a hot beverage felt nice enough to assuage her. )

I just woke up around half an hour past, but I couldn't get the door to the rest of the train open. There is enough technology to assume it had power once, and the food had still been cold, but I couldn't guarantee how long that would hold true.

So I brought some out to prepare just in case. I'm Angela.

My name is Rufus. Put it that way, and you're being quite practical. Call me impressed.

[He should really worry about things like, y'know, poisoned tea, but whatever. There's no point in poisoning someone when you could have just not brought them to your weird train in the first place. All signs point to Angela being just another kidnapee, anyway.

So he pours himself some tea, and sits back to drink it. His movements are measured and refined -- every tiny little detail in the way he sits, holds a teacup, and generally holds himself screams "good breeding".]

Thank you.

It's a pleasure, Rufus. I'm afraid "practical" is in the job description, so I'm not to stray far from the path.

( His points are sound, because while she's certainly relaxed, she's not visibly comfortable. It's in the little things like the tension in her shoulders or the focus in her eyes, reacting to everything around her as if it's unfamiliar— it is, of course. Noises of a traditional train are nothing she's very familiar with.

But she's trying. Visible enough in the idle fretting and tea-brewing, which is unfortunately probably not up to par to royal standards. He certainly seems well off in how he holds himself. )

I don't know if anyone else woke to nausea, but if so, I hope the tea helps. We lean heavily towards coffee in Switzerland, and it's only stuck through medical school, I'm afraid.

"Switzerland"?

[Oh, yes. This "different realities" thing Peter was talking about appears again. He wasn't 100% sure he believed it, but he gave it the benefit of the doubt, and this seems to confirm it. He wonders if there's anyone else here at all who knows the same world he does?]

...Ah, the tea is perfectly acceptable. Although I couldn't say no to coffee. It isn't my preference, but it has its own appeal.

[Coffee is a commoner drink. And this is not the kind of tea you drink when you're a Duke's son but -- well. Bleh bleh nobility. Rufus will drink the mediocre tea with pride, but it would take a lot more conscious effort to hide his mannerisms.]

It's a little country in Europe, right between Germany and France.

( She's not had the "different realities" talk, unfortunately, so bear with her. If no one knows of Europe as a whole, however... )

I'm glad to hear it came out all right. I don't brew tea very often. If you'd prefer it, please let me know. I can find my way around a good cup of coffee far easier.

( My! A commoner drink. Angela would have never considered herself as such. So long as he's finding it palatable and it helps, however, she seems quite pleased if that little smile is any indication. )

And where is it you're from, if I may ask?

["Europe", "Germany", "France"-- Rufus feels like he needs to take a class on extra-dimensional geography.]

I'm from the Erebonian Empire. A not-so-little country in western Zemuria.

[There's humour in his eyes, though his smile is mostly hidden behind him taking another sip of tea. It isn't that he takes great joy in sharing his confusion, but... No, he's taking joy in it. But it's a generally good-natured kind of mischief.]

( There's a brief pause there, but the blank look that receives in response is broken with a blink, then an outright laugh she tries to muffle in her hand. )

So that means we're from very, very different places, or at the very least, very different times. We're quite foreign to one another despite similar appearances, aren't we? I apologize. I'm sure the Erebonian Empire must be wonderful. What is it like?

( That's all right; there are certainly worse things they could be laughing about. )