bigapplesauce | [CLOSED] EDGAR'S ARRIVAL

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[CLOSED] EDGAR'S ARRIVAL

Lying there in the semidark, Edgar stares at the solitary lit lightbulb at the far end of the kennel and thinks about being alone. Hay in the bales that comprises his makeshift bed pokes at his back through the thin material of his shirt, but the sensation doesn't bother him. It makes him feel more aware, makes the situation seem more real. Bending his knees, he puts his feet flat on the bale and digs his toes into the stiff hay. Almondine shifts beside him, and he runs a hand down her back until she goes still again.

He listens to the sounds of the night, sounds of the barn settling around him and of the creatures outside scuttling around its borders like foreign territory they dare not trespass. The sounds normally soothe him, but his mind is too busy working over all the changes the day has brought to let them lull him to sleep. Just across the yard and seemingly a thousand miles away, his mother sleeps restlessly, the medicines they picked up earlier hopefully running their course. Edgar can't remember the last time they've been apart; certainly not since his father died. In the barn, dogs rustling in the darkness, he is truly alone for the first time in months. The thought is like a surge of fresh air after being trapped under a blanket.

He is alone, and it feels good. He is going to take care of things, all by himself, and that feels good, too. He won't be reliant on anyone, and that feels best of all.

He can do it. He can take care of the kennel and the dogs and his mother and everything will be just fine. A grim determination fills him, along with something like hope, or maybe peace.

Edgar closes his eyes and watches lights dance across his eyelids. Somewhere in the dark to his left, one of the dogs whimpers and another answers it with a short, puppy-like howl.

/Quiet,/ he signs in their direction. /Go to sleep./

The whimpering stops. Almondine noses his open palm, and Edgar lets his hand run over her head and shoulders before burying it in the fluff on her chest. She nestles into his side once more and with a final sigh lays her head against his leg.

Edgar falls asleep with the smell of hay and dogs surrounding him, the buoy of possibility lifting his spirits higher than they have been in a long while.

When he wakes, the first thing he notices is that Almondine is not beside him. More than the lack of warmth or the weight of her body, her absence, the sensation it produced, is a subconscious realization before he even opens his eyes. The sun blinding him from directly overhead is his second observation.

/Almondine,/ he signs. He claps his other hand to his thigh without sitting up, then uses it to cover his eyes against the sun as he signs again. /Almondine, come here./

Then the fact that there is sun on his face finally makes its way into his groggy mind and he sits bolt upright. There is no way sun could be hitting him in the face. He is in the barn, by the kennels. Kennels he can no longer smell. Somewhat trepidatious about what he might find, Edgar drops his hand and glances around in utter bewilderment. He is lying in browning grass amid a stand of trees. The sky above him is overcast, the thin clouds reminiscent of early winter. But it's summer, he thinks. The chill in the air belies the thought and he pulls his legs to his chest, tucking his bare feet as close to his body as he can.

Glancing around at his unfamiliar surroundings, he spots Almondine slipping through the trees.

/Where were you?/ he signs.

Almondine watches him with serious eyes, and Edgar feels his heart pound once, heavily, against his ribcage. When she lies down nearly on top of his feet, Edgar lets her.

It's cold and he has no idea where he is. Or how far he is going to have to walk.

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Daine is decidedly not on the lookout for rift activity; it's a bit too cold for her to feel like wandering the park all day. It's pure coincidence that she's out there, walking Sarge and Molly, when a crow informs her that the rift is about to drop something about a quarter mile away. She only has a moment to hope that it drops something small and inanimate when there's a glint of wild magic in her mind's eye, and then she stops in her tracks, astonished. An animal has come through--a dog, judging by the feel of it in her mind.

Well, then. She wouldn't ignore a human (or something human-ish), but she definitely isn't ignoring a dog. The rebels have let her keep Sarge and Molly, maybe there won't be a fuss over one more joining her little pack.

As she walks briskly towards the spot the crow had indicated, Sarge and Molly trotting alongside, she tries reaching for the animal with her magic. Hello? Can you hear me?

Almondine awakes to strange smells and the sound of an unfamiliar voice.

When she opens her eyes, she doesn't know where she is. Bare trees surround her; the grass beneath her belly is brittle with cold. She scents the air, and it smells like snow, not the hay she fell asleep on, or the summer flowers that are blooming against the porch. Something is very wrong.

She raises her head slowly, scenting carefully, listening for danger. The only thing familiar is the smell of the boy beside her. She hears the voice again, and though she cannot make out from which direction is comes, there is something in it that pulls her to her feet.

A gust of wind pushes against her coat, and she hesitates, glancing down at Edgar. It is too cold for him. She should stay, do her best to keep him warm, or even wake him. But the voice calls again, and this time she can make out the words, so she walks into the trees. The land rises slightly, and she tries to place the terrain in her mind, to connect it the land around the house.

Then she reaches the crest of the hill. There is nothing familiar beyond it.

When the voice calls this time, she answers.

I am here.

The dogs appear first, and Almondine almost retreats. But then a person appears, a girl. Almondine knows she is the voice. As their eyes meet, Almondine hears Edgar calling her, and she returns to him.

She tries to tell him that someone is coming, but he is too distracted to understand. With a sigh, she settles herself on top of his bare feet and waits.

It takes longer to get a response from the dog than Daine would have expected, but she can hardly blame the poor thing for being hesitant. She knows how unsettling going through the rift can be. Eventually, she hears the dog call back to her--a female, from the sounds of it--and she rounds a bend in the path just in time to see the animal staring at her from atop a little hill.

Before Daine can speak to her again, the dog turns away and vanishes behind the crest of the hill. Frowning, Daine leaves the path and starts to climb after her. Hang back a little, she advises Sarge and Molly, who agreeably drop back as far as their leashes will allow as she tops the hill.

She sees the boy first, his shirt and jeans standing out against the browning vegetation with more clarity than the dog's fawn-colored coat. "Oh," she breathes, surprise quickly giving way to concern when she sees how underdressed the boy is for the weather. He must be freezing! Daine drops the leashes with a distracted, "Wait there, please," for Sarge and Molly, her hands already loosening her scarf and unbuttoning her coat as she walks over to the newcomers. "You're not hurt, are you?" she asks the boy.

Edgar shakes his head.

Almondine has shifted around and though she is still pressed against his legs, she is standing, so his feet are exposed. He curls them closer to him against the sudden rush of cold air. As he does so, he notices that Almondine is staring at the girl, and her tail is wagging ever so slightly.

Daine's reassured for all of two seconds before the dog stands up, revealing that the poor boy's barefoot. There isn't much she can do about that except try to get him inside; even if she offered her boots, they wouldn't fit.

"Here," she says with a sympathetic wince as she shrugs off her coat and drops into a crouch next to them, "take these--the coat won't really fit, but it's better than nothing." She proffers the coat and scarf with one hand; the other she offers to the dog to sniff. "I'm Daine, by the way."

Edgar hesitates, but he's already shivering - and the girl at least has shoes and a sweater on - so he takes the coat and scarf from her hands. He notices her gesture toward Almondine, and is reassured that she seems to know at least a little about how to approach dogs.

He quickly wraps the scarf around his neck and stands to pull on the coat. As he does so, he realizes the girl - Daine - is still watching him expectantly. The cold has made his mind sluggish, and it takes him a second to remember her words. When he does remember, he's faced with another dilemma. How does he tell her his name?

Just as he is about to attempt to sign at her, Daine looks down at Almondine.

His name is Edgar. Almondine tells Daine. He speaks with his hands.

Edited 2013-03-07 04:04 (UTC)

"Edgar?" Daine repeats aloud, realizing a moment too late that pulling his name out of (seemingly) nowhere might be a bit unsettling for him. "Your dog told me," she explains, sheepish.

Edgar blinks at Daine.

Almondine is smart, even for a Sawtelle dog, but he doesn't see how she could have told Daine his name. Just the same, he contemplates asking her to ask Daine where they are, and how they got here. But he's having difficulty feeling his feet and decides those questions - and the mystery of this girl who talks to dogs - can be saved for a more convenient time.

Instead, he gives Daine a sort of half shrug and hunches his shoulders against the wind.

Daine blinks back at him. That's probably the most lukewarm reaction she's ever gotten to telling folk she can talk to animals--but then again, if he can't talk to her, she can't expect much else. At least he's not running away (or trying to; she doubts he'd get far without shoes).

She straightens, about as eager to be out of the cold as she imagines he must be, now that she's no longer wearing a coat. "I can take you someplace warmer, if you like, and explain some of this rift business."

Edgar frowns. Rift business? Maybe she means how he and Almondine got here? At any rate, he very much would like to get out of the cold; any explanation as to his situation would be a bonus. So he nods, and for good measure pulls his hands out of the coat pockets and signs at her.

/Yes, please. That would be great./

Daine watches him signing with interest, if not understanding. The nod is clear enough, though, and it's not as if she was expecting him to refuse. She offers him an encouraging smile as she silently calls her dogs over.

"This is Sarge, and this one's Molly," she says as she picks up their leashes. Both dogs hang back a little, wary of crowding the newcomers, but they wag their tails cheerily. Don't worry, Molly says to Edgar's dog, Daine's nice. She'll take good care of you and your boy.

Which reminds her. "What was your name again?" Daine asks the dog. She could have asked silently, but now that she's admitted to being able to talk to (or at least understand) the dog, it seems rude to go over Edgar's head.

Almondine, she answers. My name is Almondine.

She greets Molly and Sarge, but glances up at Edgar in concern.

Is it very far? she asks Daine.

"Almondine." Daine smiles--that's fair pretty--but she sobers at the dog's question. "It's not far to the base," she reassures them, starting back toward the path at as brisk a pace as she thinks Edgar can handle. It's a lucky coincidence that they were dropped so close. Daine had actually backtracked along her walking route to find them, so it shouldn't take more than a few minutes before they're indoors.

"We're in New York," she adds, since that's one of the first questions most new arrivals have. "In America. On Earth." She doubts that last bit is really necessary, but she knows better than to assume. "And it's January 22nd, 2013."

Edgar is so stunned, he stops dead and stares at her.

New York? January? 2013? That doesn't make any sense. And why does she feel the need to clarify "In America. On Earth."?

His pause is short, so Daine hasn't stopped, and he quick steps to catch up to her.

Daine slows a little until he catches up, biting back a wince at his reaction. When she'd arrived, none of that information had meant anything to her (though being told she was in a country she'd never heard of before had unsettled her plenty). Edgar must be from a realm similar enough to this one to recognize the names and dates, though judging by his expression, they're not at all what he thinks they should be.

"It's the rift," she explains. "It takes folk from other realms--and other times--and dumps them here. It's how I got here, too."

Edgar nods, and though he understands what she's saying, he doesn't entirely understand what she means. Thirty years into the future? Or maybe not even the future at all?

Almondine seems to have noticed his mental turmoil, because she presses up against his legs as they walk. Edgar frees a hand from the coat and reaches down to brush it over her head.

He meets Daine's eyes, then glances around as if looking for something, then looks back at Daine and cocks an eyebrow.

Daine furrows her brow at him, not quite understanding. "The base, where we're going? It's not far." They're already at the edge of the park, and Daine leads them towards the one intersection they'll have to cross before heading underground. "Watch your step," she advises, keeping an eye out for broken glass.

Edgar nods, glad to have gotten his point across, however shakily. If he is going to be here for an extended period of time, he's going to have to start teaching people how to sign, and quickly. Or find some paper. Otherwise asking questions will be difficult.

He watched Daine out of the corner of his eye, and glances down at Almondine.

Or I can just have Almondine translate, he thinks with bemusement.

"The whole thing's underground," Daine explains, leaning towards Edgar and lowering her voice so she's not being overheard by all and sundry. "The door's in the subway."

They reach the intersection, and she waits for the lights to turn. She's getting better about crossing, though she still can't help frowning dubiously at the cars. She never quite trusts them to stay put when the light's red, and she'd rather be on her toes and look silly than ignore them and end up bruised (or worse).

The light changes, and she heads across the street, Sarge pressed up against her for support that she'd never admit to needing. "Nearly there," she says for Edgar's benefit.

Edited 2013-03-08 03:28 (UTC)

As they reach the far curb, Edgar ponders the distrustful glances she had thrown at the stopped vehicles. It was an unusual reaction - even the dogs on their farm in the middle of practically nowhere knew about cars.

The thought of the farm makes his chest ache, and he walks a bit faster as if to escape it.

To distract himself, he studies where they are, making mental note of the landmarks, in case he ever needs to find his way again.

Daine hustles down the steps, arms wrapped around herself in a vain attempt to ward off the cold. When she reaches the door, she knocks sharply.

Phil opens it, casting a weary but unsurprised look at Almondine and a more suspicious look at Edgar.

"Phil, this is Edgar and Almondine. They both came through," she says, stressing the word 'both' in the hopes of avoiding a lecture about taking in strays. Phil steps back to let them through, and Daine quickly slips inside, glancing back to make sure Edgar's still with her.

"We can get you some shoes and things," she says as she leads him down the long, mostly empty corridors that lead to the base proper, "and some food, if you're hungry. Or--can you write? We could get some paper and a pen so you can ask questions." She lifts a shoulder. "Which would you like, first?"

Edgar is feeling a little hungry, but that is by far the least of his concerns. He weighs his options before deciding that clothing should be first.

/Shoes first,/ he signs, pointing down at his bare feet. /Then paper./ He pantomimes writing. /Then food./ He makes eating motions. He points to Almondine and raises his eyebrows. /For Almondine, too?/ He makes the eating motion again and points to her.

Daine nods, smiling. "Shoes, then questions, then food--for both of you. Come on."

The clothing is easy enough to sort out. Daine steers Edgar toward the storeroom. "Try not to stare at Howard," she murmurs to him as they approach the front counter. She rings a little bell, and a few moments later, a human-sized, anthropomorphic duck appears from behind some shelves and favors them with a bored blink.

"Hullo, Howard," she says with a polite smile. "Edgar needs some shoes. A sweatshirt probably wouldn't go amiss, either."

Howard gives Edgar a pensive once-over, then disappears into the storeroom. A few minutes later, he reappears with a small bundle of clothes tucked under one arm and a pair of shoes dangling from the other. He wordlessly plunks them on the counter.

Edgar's doing his best not to stare. Or at least he thinks he is. It's hard to tell exactly what he's doing since his brain seems to have shut down, but he is at least trying to avert his eyes at a normal rate.

Howard is a duck. A very large duck.

Daine can talk to Almondine. He's in 2013. A duck has just given him clothing.

There has been a niggling suspicion in the back of Edgar's mind since he woke up that this is just a dream. Somehow, the sight of an anthropomorphic duck, absurd as it is, has completely convinced him otherwise. Suddenly feeling numb, he scoops the shoes and clothes off of the counter and nods his thanks.

"Thanks," Daine says, before heading in the direction of her little apartment. It's as good a place as any for them to talk, and she wants to sit.

"This is my room," she explains as she unclips the dogs' leashes and shoves open the door. "They could give you one, too, if you like; otherwise, there are apartments in a different building."

Shadow the cat lifts his head when they walk in, his expression making it clear just how unimpressed he is by the introduction of yet another dog, though he doesn't seem concerned enough to get up.

No fighting, Daine says, as much a reminder as an order. She loops the leashes over the end of her bed, then crosses to her desk. A little rummaging turns up a notebook and a pen, which she offers to Edgar. Then she sits on the bed, Molly hopping up beside her. Shadow rises, stretches, and then climbs up onto Daine's shoulders, draping himself around her neck as Molly curls up in Daine's lap.

As Sarge sits beside Daine's legs, she makes a vague hand gesture. "Feel free to sit anywhere." There's a desk chair, or there's plenty of room on the bed.

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