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the outer gate
"Open up, and let them in."
The Moira is no more.
With the damage done to the ship due to the timeslip, all that remains is a burning wreckage and parts to be taken—if the crew can find anything in the pieces. Recovery and headcounts are the main objective for the first several hours of being planetside, and once things have settled just enough, Captain Ira calls for a meeting and addresses those who are able in person to explain the situation. He draws a rough map of the area and explains where he believes they are - according to the terrain - and where they must go. For anyone who’s listening, he describes things like an “Outer Gate”, an “Inner Gate” and “gate sectors”. Believing this to be the best course of action, all crew are asked to explore and gather what they think they’ll need to make the long journey towards the central point of the Hub. Because the MIDs are no longer working due to the lack of a network, the Captains distribute a newer tech called the TAB. It serves the same functions as the MID but is lighter, slimmer, and has the ability to stick to any surface.
WELCOME TO THE MIDWAY HUB
Now that the smoke from the crash has cleared, and injured crew have been tended to, the Captains get everyone ready for departure by explaining what they know of the Hub. Almost stone-like, the creators built a domed workspace in the largest solid space on the planet they could find. Gates are the only way inside, and anyone who catches a glimpse of the compound will see that parts of the dome are cracked. Yet, everything still appears to be relatively intact. The Midway Hub’s terrain is very rocky and difficult to walk on at times. Below the surface is a honeycomb of intermittently dense and brittle stone that makes travel difficult due to the unpredictable nature of what lies beneath the crew’s feet. Those who can develop the tech from what’s left of the debris might be able to create something to determine which route is the safest. Ships and small crafts can be used to fly, but landing is a problem—rocks jut up in sharp peaks and the clearer spots can't handle their weight. Vegetation is sparse, consisting of twisted dark gray thistles that have sprung up from cracks in the rock and burn when in direct contact with skin, and what could be considered small animals here can be seen scurrying away the closer crew get to them.
☄ WEEK ONE
Crew are asked to hook cryo beds together and to use any appropriate vehicles that can be made or fashioned to fit the terrain to carry injured crew on the journey to the center of the Hub. Supplies are gathered, and the Captains, as well as any crew who want to, give the Moira a proper sendoff, heads bowed as they say goodbye to what’s been their home. Traveling starts out slowly, a line of a hundred-plus crew members making their way slowly forward. Stops are frequent, but camping for rest only occurs at night. Crew are assigned watch shifts, fires are built, injured tended to, and those who are able are asked to explore nearby caves and hunt for food.
Something akin to deer, though striped and only to be found in pairs, can be stumbled across at night. Throngs of dark purple mammels begin to follow the Moirans on their trip as well. They are friendly, curious, and eat the thistle. Meet the intelligent, watchful predators that aren’t easily scared away and follow the crew from a distance as if waiting to pounce. The thistle can be eaten, but only if cooked first, and those who sample the chewy plant raw will experience a burning sensation in their throat that doesn’t go away until the cooked version is consumed. During the first week, water can’t be found.
Anyone who does hunt, gather, or explore should make sure to that their TABS are on and it’s suggested that nobody goes alone.
Nearing the end of the first week, an Ingress can be spotted close by that crew can explore. If anyone dares to go inside, they will find the texture of the ground and surrounding walls to be rather soft. If inspected closely, crew will discover that what they originally thought to be rock is actually a living organism that’s fed off the energy of the Ingress it’s attached itself to. It’s not harmful and squishy to the touch. If pressed hard enough, it secretes a turquoise liquid with the consistency of water that might make a good substitute for that very thing. ☄ WEEK TWO
When crew finally pass through the sector gates, a strange sensation encompasses them, and a depowering of sorts goes into effect. The creators put in security measures meant to put all visitors on equal footing as well as to protect themselves from harm. All crew will essentially have the strength and abilities of the average human. An unforeseen issue, this causes Captain Thán to slip into a coma as he is no longer able to continue to recover at a steady pace, and with the loss of the former Captain’s abilities, crew can no longer be brought back if they die. For the first time, all Moirans are subject to permanent death.
During this week of travel, broken ingress machines and parts will be found scattered among the rocks, and new crew will come through. Unfortunately, these Ingresses aren’t in good shape, and anyone coming through will be in varying states of distress—some physical and some mental. New individuals will either have suffered an age slip, growing older or younger than their original body, some form of body transformation (perhaps that shiny thing they were wearing is now part of them somehow), or an extreme weakness they had never been subjected to before arriving on the Midway Hub. The new people will be offered to join their group, once found, and seasoned crew will be asked to explain to them where they are going and what they know.
The rest of the week will be a mix of greeting the new arrivals and continuing to travel to the center of the Hub. The closer they get, the less frequently they’ll see animals, and more caves will begin to pop up. ☄ WEEK THREE
Entering the third week of travel, settlements and houses begin to crop up and are prime areas for exploration and general supplies. Those who go inside may find items that have been left behind and evidence showing that those of varying species and cultures lived in the homes. Some appeared to have been scientists while others were explorers, but all living quarters are deserted. Crew who are less lucky in their search might come away with no fresh supplies, and others might walk into traps or safeguards left behind by previous tenants; these come in many forms, from mild paralysis to temporary unconsciousness. As there are more residences, there are also more caves. The entrances vary in size, and light sources will be needed to explore. Once inside, crew can find purple underwater streams, which can be consumed, and glowing surfaces. When crew drink the water, it temporarily restores powers, a few minutes tops, and then, extreme lethargy settles in for a couple of hours.
Further into the cave systems, crew will come across these lovely creatures that are attracted to sound and track through scent. They are highly dangerous and attack simply to feed. Killing them, though, is surprisingly simple as they are just as vulnerable and weak as everyone else. They are vicious in demeanor but only as strong as an average human.
The closer to the Inner Gate crew get, the less homes, wildlife, and more caves there will be. ☄ WEEK FOUR
The Captains, aware that the crew is exhausted, stop and make camp for the first few days. Someone mentions that it’s the holidays where they’re from, and the Captains do their best to throw a party. Set up at the base of a cave, tents are built and fires roar. Soft music is played in the form of guitar, thank you Ira, and Cúrre brings out some legumes that taste like cherries when roasted. There isn’t much in the way of decorations, but crew are encouraged to dig through their pac-discs and contribute to the festivities.
After a brief respite, crew learn that the entrances to Gate A and Gate B are inside one of the caves but any signs or markings have long since worn away or been destroyed. Groups are split, TABS are synced, and crew explore carefully until an entrance is found. Crew discover Gate A first, and all crew are contacted to gather there. The Captains will remain at the cave entrance until all crew are accounted for, and then, they’ll enter through the gate together.
( ooc; For questions, go here. Please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! )
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hohnkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-12-02 06:54 pm
no subject
Mhm, it was what I did before arriving here as well, so I settled right in. What is the saying, my fingers are in many pies? I've done a little bit of everything, though I suppose I could sum it up and say I'm a surgeon and a field medic. And that's all right if you don't; now we've met, either way, so it isn't as important, no? Though I didn't catch your name.
[ The bag of cookies will remain open in her hand, in easy reach for him if ever he decides to help himself. The scent of spices curls up, heavy on the cinnamon and ginger. Any more clove and pepper and they would've been pfeffernüsse. She takes him in within her peripheral, reminding her of the lean coyotes Jesse liked to talk about. Wary and clever, beyond their years out of necessity.
His skepticism in "Santa", however, earns a soft laugh. ]
He is an old friend of mine, from where I came from. He's only trying to lift spirits. And he's very fond of those younger than him; even I'm made to feel young again and doted upon when he turns his attention on me, and I'm nearly 40 years old. And besides, there's quite the difference between Santa Claus and der Weihnachtsmann, you know. Father Christmas doesn't tend to shimmy down chimneys, nor is he heralded on a sleigh with flying reindeer. He's a little more humble than that.
Ah, though I suppose he also isn't quite so... [ She gestures at Reinhardt in the fray, motioning at his ah... size. The man is over 7' and overly muscular for a man in his 60s. No, Santa certainly wasn't a buff giant.
(She's getting this impression, yes. Even if he weren't at the typical age of rebellion, he's certainly more mature than he rightfully should be at his age.) ]
no subject
Um, like what what other things did you do? [Since she said she did a lot of things and he doesn't know what else to ask. Somewhere in there he's sure she also asked his name so after another freeze frame moment to process what she said or asked, etc, he tells her.] Oh, uh, Carl. My name is Carl.
[Did he already think she talks a lot? He still can't bring himself to take a cookie yet, but they are starting to look promising in not just the way he picks up the smell from the tip of his nose, but as also something to give him an excuse to hold off on all these things she is saying to him. Just process them.
But yeah, he was also skeptical of the Santa. (As a kid, he knew Santa wasn't real, but he went along with it because it made his parents happy more than anything. Now it did nothing of the sort and just seemed weird. Sorry.)
Carl eyes her 7' tall friend for a moment quietly.]
Der Woc-nat-what? Uh, never mind. [Whatever she said was difficult to say.] What's your friend's real name?
no subject
It's a pleasure to meet you, Carl. Everything I've done has been in the medical field; I was head of surgery at a prominent hospital in Switzerland fresh out of medical school in my early 20s, then I joined an international peace organization that was interested in my research— nanotechnology used for healing. I'd had success in lab-grown skin grafts and other such things used in restorative surgeries, like for burn victims, and I went on to apply my skills to things like prosthetics and cybernetics for limb replacements. Organ repair and replacement. Much of it was applied in various wars and militia fallout; I worked in war relief for many years as well. So again, a little bit of everything.
[ She'll give him a few moments for that to sink in, and she's open to questions if he needed clarification and wished to ask after any particular detail; Angela overshares in the soft hope that others will rise to the occasion and open up much the same— a technique that worked more often than not. Likewise, she isn't convinced there's a single person here that truly does believe in Santa, no matter which flavor he may come in across the countries, but her friend is happy and those receiving whatever little things he offers are left the better in spirit for it. The religious aspect nor the holiday itself had any real impact on the sincerity of the action. He is giving whatever he has to others, and he is joyful while doing so, spreading like an epidemic in all those who hear that booming laugh of his. Even Angela can't keep herself from smiling every time she hears him in the background, and he is a man who laughed openly and often. She takes no offense if he's perceived as weird, because she knew better than anyone that he's an odd man to begin with. But his heart is in the right place. ]
It's German for "Father Christmas"; you were off to a good start. My friend's real name is Reinhardt. He's a good man; he was one of the founding members of the organization I mentioned.
And what about you, Carl? You've been carefully letting me speak for quite some time. What were you getting up to before coming here, if I may ask?
no subject
That's a whole lot, if you ask me. [He admits, though. A spark of intrigue for all she's done just behind his eyes.] I don't even think I've had a job unless you count school or what they gave me to do on the ship.
[Neither did really count to him either. He acted like the Weapons Specialist here and maintained their weapons, but he did that at home sometimes too so it didn't feel like work. And neither did school because whether it was at home in Alexandria or in Teleios before, it had nothing to do with surviving and was easier in comparison (most the time).]
You mean he is the owner of the hospital you worked at before? [In Carl's mind that makes him not only maybe generous but fairly wealthy once upon a time. That's about all he can understand with what he remembers of the way the world used to work, though. Man gets a few positive points for it, however, that negate his thoughts about how weird it is he's dressing up as a Santa.
Anyway, when she turns and asks about him next, that's what probably catches him off guard the most than anything else these last four weeks. He wasn't used to talking about himself, really. His eye blinked at her question.]
Me? [...] There's not really much to tell. Home is kinda like this place [a motion to the harsh terrain where monsters are and then slightly to the two people (Carol and Daryl) looking closely knit but guarded], but my family is there.
[She's earned enough of his trust to have him tell her that much. But he shuts down from saying anything else. He does miss his family a great deal quite obviously, though.]
no subject
She won't approach him about his eye after seeing that it has healed, not until he came to the medbay about it. It poses no danger to him as it is and she won't pry. ]
It is quite a lot, but it's given me purpose. I've been able to make a difference for many, many people; that is all that I could ask. And school is very important. It could very well count as a job— it prepares you for life and encourages all the critical thinking you'll need to apply going forward, even if many people don't use algebra or feel like writing essays on books they've read will do them any good in the world. You would see the difference if you've ever been to countries without. It's quite a different culture and way of life, without certain types of education. May I ask what it is you were assigned, here?
[ He is younger, certainly— mid, late teens? Yet there's no denying he's careful and clever. And he watches others closely, she sees. Nearly feeling it herself as he seems to weigh her presence and intentions before even something as innocuous as taking a cookie. ]
Oh, no not quite, not the hospital— the peace organization, it was an international military strike force. The United Nations utilized us to mitigate conflict and assist in ending wars, assisting in town and city evacuations, relief efforts to provide medical care; they put an end to a worldwide war when I was a young girl and then went on to help get everyone back on their feet. Reinhardt was one of the six who accomplished that.
[ It may not be quite the picture Carl had painted in his mind, but it was still quite something; Reinhardt, amongst the others, was one of her heroes. And he's gone on to do great things, and his laughter has never grown any less lively over the years. He is still generous, piecing out his own belongings to others just to give gifts, and it is how he's always been. One of those "shirt off his back" types.
She certainly doesn't mean to catch him off guard, but her nose crinkles with the little smile his response earns and she only nods in what is conveyed effectively as "yes, you" with a hum. She doesn't speak and instead listens, ready and waiting for an answer. ]
There's always something to tell, even if it's just where you've come from or what it is you do. Things you miss. They all shape us into who we are. [ Yet he gestures to their surroundings, barren and alien, and her head tips with a touch of curiosity. Then he offers a little gesture to a couple standing a ways off and calls them his family (though she may be mistaken on that implication), and her smile widens. ] But I'm glad you're not alone here. We may not have had much choice in our arrival, here, but it is always worse to be alone. I suppose I would call my friends here my family as well. "Santa" included.
no subject
My home isn't the same as it used to be, though. Where I'm from no one is going to grow up and become police men or politicians. We just do out best to survive, and when we're not we farm or do our best to find food. [Really, not that much different than here. Education was only good now to teach one how to speak and read-write a little. He was set there.
Pausing for a moment, he took a little breather to remember what exactly his title was.] Something like Weapons Specialist, I think. Maybe they thought I was good with them when I arrived with just a little more than normal. They were not wrong, though.
[Yes, he had nothing to hide. A few weapons were even on him now. One small knife and a gun, each holstered away to the side of one leg. They other weapons stored away in his cube thing.]
A world wide war? [His eyes widened at the mention that. And he may have just disregarded school a second ago, but she might it sound like the first world war. Infact, it sounded like--] You mean World War I?
[He shakes his head next.]
There's nothing much else to tell. Home just used to be normal, and then it wasn't. I learned to live with it.
no subject
I see; I'm sorry to hear that. I can imagine how difficult it must be to grow up in that sort of environment. The Weapons Specialist is an important position to carry here, though. We've certainly been through some scrapes that made it imperative aboard the ship, though here... It's difficult to say. I suppose we should be ready to return home since this planet is said to be the origin of the portal technology that brought us here, but... what is the saying? Something about counting chickens. Idioms get a little tricky between languages.
[ Angela has noticed the weapons, though she carries none (visibly) herself at this time. When she had arrived she'd had her staff on her and her handgun, and even now they're in the pacdisc in her pocket, but she otherwise does not carry anything when surrounded by the camp. Only when necessary, and even then she is judicial in where she chooses to employ force; most everything could be dealt with via hand-to-hand if push came to shove, unless more monsters came into play.
When he mentions the World Wars, though, she offers a smile and a small shake of the head. ]
Oh no, not quite. That was nearly two hundred years ago; where I came from, it's the year 2076. About thirty years prior we had issue with the robotics we'd built to assist in building, manufacturing, even home care— they were programmed with artificial intelligence, you see, so they could employ their own problem solving and be able to recognize danger and cease functions and stop machinery if necessary. A few of the programs went rogue and took over the nearby systems and turned on humans all over the globe. Reinhardt, there, was one of the original six members of the strike force team who put an end to it all. He's a hero. Children still have posters and idolize the stories even if Overwatch, the organization, is gone. There is a good measure of peace now with the Omnics— that would be the robots— and the rest of the world. They have all the same desires we do; love, land, purpose. It's a little complicated to explain, I'm sorry.
[ Not to mention unimportant, but again, she shares to prompt further from others. ]
It's easier when you're younger, I know. When you don't have a frame of reference to really remember what it was like before, and we adapt better before we've been set in our ways.
[ She understands; she'd lost her parents and had been essentially orphaned when she was 7, to the Omnic War. She had learned to live with that, as well. Used the emotions and resulting "freedom" to throw herself headlong into being a doctor just as they had, and that momentum continued to carry her forward even nearing 40. Some tragedies could still have a positive force on the world and shape others to greater things. She knew that better than anyone and would always have hope in others who have suffered through similar altering events. ]
no subject
Carl just give a half nod to her words.]
Yeah. There's nothing that can be done about it. And back home we just got something good going for us and that's why... That's why I wanna get home. And why I knew I had to take that job when they gave it to me. [Never mind that it gave him access to guns, too. He's not adding that. Instead he pauses briefly to figure out the saying she means about chickens.]
You mean, don't count your chickens before they hatch? That one? Yeah, I don't to plan to, but it'd be nice to go home. I should have been there already.
[If it weren't for the unfamiliar setting they were in, he would have stored away his weapons too. But there's also that other saying "better safe, than sorry" heavily ingrained into him, too. And he wants to live so he can see his dad and sister and whole community again.
Her statement of her year surprises him, though.]
2076!? That's in my future then. I was told, uh, it was something like 2012 back home. We didn't have robots or anything like them as far as I remember. It was 2010 when everything happened.
[The world changed quickly in ways no one ever expected. And actually, when he thinks about it, she's right. He did do better to adjust than some of the grown ups. It was still the grown ups that lead the way for him to grow so he isn't too sure about her next statement there.]
You think so? I don't know if I could have done anything without my dad or the group we built together with my friends. They taught me everything I know.
[He can't help but return to thinking about Sophia or Ron's little brother. They died because of unfortunate circumstances that had them unprepared. Carl knows very well, especially in the early days, he was vulnerable to that all, if it weren't for his parents and group looking out for him. Perhaps, he thinks, in some twist of fact, it could have easily been him over one of his former friends. Getting shot twice in those two years certainly affirms the fact he could be dead.]
I tried to be concise and this tag still got out of control I'm sorry
[ The shock at her given year is nothing she hasn't seen before, though, and something she certainly understands— those she's met here and grown closest to were from the 1980s and 1990s, but she's certainly also met a lovely gentleman from the early 1800s— the French Revolution era. It's a learning experience like no other, being able to see how they've functioned and the items they brought with them and so on. She's rather enjoyed it. ]
Mm, I see. 2010, thereabouts...? I don't recall there being anything drastic then. What was it that happened, exactly? I'm sure where we came from isn't quite the same if that's the case, but I'd still like to hear about it if you'd be willing to share.
[ There's resonance there— understanding. Even if he asks after, she knows he understood the meaning of it. ]
Guidance is certainly one thing, yes; but well and truly adapting to new situations and lifestyles? That's best done by the younger generations. Let's say, for example, that one day there could be no more cookies. For the sake of this example, let's say these cookies were an important source of food and a staple, and they were central to everyone's lives. Now I, being older and having known what these taste like, will be sad and upset that they're no longer around. They were such a big part of my life, after all, I ate them every day and I'll never have them again. [ This is dumb but stay with her here: ] But you— why, you have yet to reach your hand in the bag. The world without these cookies is easier to fathom because it's all you've known. You'll find other things to eat and better ways of life without sparing grief and sadness over the loss of these cookies.
Listening to those who've come before you is important and everyone around you will always offer guidance, but younger, open minds are always going to be the future. Society is always changing and it's difficult for those who have been around before that change to continuously adapt with it. We grow comfortable to what we consider the norm to be. Consider yourself lucky that your mind is still open to what the world may throw at you.
nah, it's okay. it's not easy to go easy sometimes.... hahaha.
I hope so. [He swallows, finally saying something.] This whole space trip lost its appeal long before we lost the ship.
[Another pause, as he recalls she said thank you for idiom, too.] And you're welcome.
[A half hearted shrug. His eye looked over to what other people were doing, HOW they were taking this more precisely. It seemed to him they were either pushing on or disheartened. He felt like he understand both sides, right now. But nodded out of it, focusing on her words.]
An infection sort of happened. [He started to explain.] People died or were bit by other people and then turned into what we call walkers. It happened really quick and got out of control. My mom- [He almost choked mentioning, feeling a wave of sadness, and took a second to gather himself up again before continuing.] She got me out of there with a family friend. Shane. We joined a group outside of the town and ... My dad met us later and we survived by continuing to move, until we reached one place that seemed really good. Not of all us from the start made it, but we met people, helped each other, became more stable and like family.
[He doesn't say who he lost, but his words and avoidance of the subject to her (someone still a little bit of a stranger) probably said enough. His mom was certainly not around anymore.
The subject switching to her point on cookies makes him eye her ginger snaps a little, though to be fair he knew what cookies tasted like, and her point made him feel like he wanted one. He turned is eye back up to her.]
Um- I guess I see your point now. Though I remember a little of what it was like. Does that change how I will eventually look at things? [Maybe not the brightest question he could ask, but a genuinely curious one anyway.] I mean, I remember what cookies and chocolate bars taste like sometimes. Movies. Comics. Video games with friends. Playing soccer. I miss those things.
[Sounds kiddy, he knows, but he did do them everyday. His point is:] They won't happen again. How more open is my mind if I miss those things?
no subject
I hope so as well.
[ Her eyes follow his line of sight to the 'party' again, with the same sort of assessment and a hundred nuances in between; she can see those who are weary, those in pain, those favoring one leg over the other or the woman easing away from the louder section holding her head, having had enough to drink and enough fun from whatever game they were playing. She sees the occasional pet swerving between legs and she picks out familiar faces to her and assesses their state, if they're having a good time or not. (So far so good, at least.) The doctor's come to read crowds like a favorite book.
But Carl begins to speak and she finishes her cookie and fishes out another one, listening intently. He has her full attention. What he describes sounds like the typical science fiction zombie pandemic, and though her learnings have explained away any such possibilities, she has come to accept that other places and times were different. Some worlds simply follow different rules. He touches on his mother and has to take a moment, and she'll shift the bag of cookies to free up a hand to lay on his shoulder, a brief and gentle thing to offer an encouraging little squeeze before he continues on and she'll make to remove it if he tenses or moves away.
Above all, Angela knows what grief choked down looks like. And she feels for him. It's implicitly and intimately understood, the loss of a parent, though she won't mention it to him lest she tread on toes. ]
I see. I am sorry to hear that your world has taken such a turn; I can't begin to imagine. But I'm glad you have those you care about here with you, and that it sounds as though you've found a good place in such a world to begin rebuilding. People are always so much stronger than others give them credit for. Especially the younger generations.
[ A smile, with that, before it's her turn once more and he's eyeing the cookies— they're offered back in his vicinity with an almost casual nonchalance that they simply happened to be within his reach. ]
I suppose it will a little, but given time, it was only a few years of your life; it becomes a smaller and smaller fraction— myself, for example. I'm 39 years old, and 30 years ago I lost my parents to that war I had mentioned, but I still remember life before that. I remember when the war was at its worst, as well as the food my mother cooked and the stories and songs she gave me from our country, the manners and societal etiquette worked into me and my encouraged curiosity with the world. Yet now, where I stand, that was such a small portion of my life. Less than a quarter. They're fond memories and things you can pass onto your children and others important to you, if you hold onto them, much the same as cultures pass on their culinary techniques and fashion and language, their stories.
You mention soccer, but did you know that the activity and sport itself is hundreds of years old? I suppose if you wanted to get very technical, it originated in China thousands of years ago. It was passed down through all those years and eventually made it to you, in 2012, changed and refined and made into a worldwide sport. I know it is still around in 2076 as well. Who's to say it will stop with you, unless you don't keep it close to your heart?
You, my dear, have the ability to hold onto and pass on all those things you've enjoyed to those around you. You can use that to shape the world going forward with a wide-open mind. What you choose to present to the future is up to you. You say those things won't happen again, but how certain are you of that? If you really put your mind to it, do you think you wouldn't be able to recreate such things? Given the time and peace to do so.
no subject
He chews on a corner, listening to her intently this time.]
Yeah. We are in a good place at home. [He answers with just that. Anything else and he'd feel a bit like a broken record.
Anyway, her story or explanation of soccer turns his expression into surprise. Was that all true?, it seemed to express without words.]
I don't know. It just seems impossible when there isn't a soccer ball around anymore. [He knows it may be possible to make one, but also can guess it won't be him given he'd had no idea how to.] I don't know what will happen in the future with peace or not.
no subject
His surprise with the soccer fact, though, gets a little smirk. ]
Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. I can think of a few ways to make some; we could try sometime if you'd like. I'm thinking stuffing leather with feathers or all that bubble wrap we received so it isn't too much heavier and will still be able to keep its shape.
[ Then whenever he went home, perhaps he'd retain the skill. It's a nice thought, at the very least. ]
History is nothing but the ups and downs of peace. It always finds a way, even if it doesn't last terribly long. That is just how the world has worked since its conception. Periods of tumult and rest. War and peace. I wish I could say one lasts longer than the other, but it's a pretty balanced act.
no subject
A blink at her suggestion.]
You think that would work? I still have the bubble wrap but I don't know where we would get leather.
[If his experience of being in another world and going home has anything to say about it, Carl knows very well the chances of him remembering things here is very slim, if not null.]
Yeah. I didn't know really anything about war or whatever until it happened. We learned about World War II when I was in school before but I never seen it. I don't think my parents even lived through it. And what we're going through back home doesn't seem the same as that. I don't know if you're right and there'll be peace again.
no subject
[ Her smile turns a little sad with the certainty he delivers his words with, listening, and she thinks back on the year spans for a moment. ]
I think you'd be correct; the first world war was in the early 1920s, then the second was in the 1940s. Your parents could have been involved in the Gulf war in the early 1990s, perhaps, but that was brief and they were likely a little young for that. The Afghanistan war would have been more likely, but you would've known if that were the case; you would have just been born, I believe, but still aware if they'd been involved. It is good that the war didn't touch your family, at least.
But I will say again that people strive for peace, even if a select few ultimately ruin it time and again. It's an easy framework to destroy by very few with power, but most will fight to regain it. I don't know the intricacies of where you've come from, I'll admit, but people are always strong, and stronger together.
[ She'll offer him a hand, first to shake but then to place the bag of cookies in if he'll allow her a handshake in the first place. ]
It was very nice to meet you, Carl. I should be getting back, but I hope you'll come by medical if you ever need anything, or check in soon to see about making that ball. I'll see what I can scrounge up. You can always reach me on the devices we were given as well; don't be shy.