When You’re Down And Out | OTA

[deepbluerevue]

Who: Grace Holloway (deepbluerevue) & sundry (You)

What: Grace’s return to Pumpkin Hollow

When: November 9th to 14th (roughly)

Where: Downtown and the Oak & Iron

Warning(s): Rapture in the late 1950s into the 1960s was a tough place to live, but Grace is unlikely to bring such things up of her own accord.

DOWNTOWN PUMPKIN HOLLOW (after Grace has been to City Hall)

Winter is rapidly approaching Marrow Isle, and anyone with the wardrobe to do so is bundled against the weather. The middle-aged woman in a new arrival’s garb, on the other hand, has her girlishly-round jaw clenched against the cold, the hand not holding her cane tucked casually in her pocket. She doesn’t look overwhelmed, per se, but there’s a definite air of measurement as her eyes flick over each shop in turn. Particularly, she seems to assess the newer shops, and those selling clothing.

If one had to guess, one would probably say the woman is in her late thirties, perhaps early forties. The few lines on her face speak to some time spent frowning and a lot of time spent smiling. Her coily hair is expertly coiffed into a simple, protective updo. When she shifts in her simple boots, her left leg seems a little less able to bend at the knee.

Given how uncomfortably chilled she looks, she’ll probably move into a shop soon.

(This is a great opening for a clothier!)

THE OAK AND IRON (after Grace has gone shopping)

It’s not quite dark, so the Oak and Iron still has plenty of custom, though people intending to spend the night at home are starting to trickle out. On an end of the bar with a good vantage point, a middle-aged woman clad in a white linen blouse, a light brown waistcoat, and a long brown skirt sits with ankles crossed and nurses a glass of wine. A few people seem to double-take on seeing her, going over for a few minutes of conversation, to which she smiles, clasping their hands companionably or nodding or something similar.

Someone with a guitar is strumming out background music, and the woman politely applauds every finished number.

WILDCARD

For other ideas and ways to exploit Grace’s disorienting return, PM me!

Comments

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

Leon is doing okay. He's got all his limbs and is mostly certain he's got the correct number of eyes and teeth again. He's fine. He's handling the situation well and is back to his regular routine of going to work and doing his regular patrols and stopping by the Oak and Iron afterwards to see if any newcomers have arrived. Everything is alright, and if he looks like he hasn't slept in weeks, well. That's probably just the dim lights of the tavern.

"Hey," he says, gesturing to a seat across from a woman he doesn't recognize and trying to remember to compensate for his resting stony expression by actually remembering to smile. It mostly works, though he looks a little haggard behind it. "You mind if I sit here?"

The inn's busy enough that doubling up on tables is necessary, but he'll happily find another seat if she'd rather be alone. Leon's not the most canny guy in the world, but he knows how some people find being approached by a police officer in uniform less than relaxing by now, even if he is off duty at the moment.

[deepbluerevue]

The woman looks at him with a blandly neutral expression for a moment, eyes flicking, before her lips spread in a warm smile.

“I don’t mind at all, sir,” she says, gesturing at the chair with humorous regality. “Please do. Grace Holloway,” she adds. “I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced?”

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

Leon relaxes slightly at the theatrical gesture, taking it as a good sign. He pulls up his chair and sits down across from her, setting down his drink.

"Leon Kennedy," he replies, nodding politely and gesturing as if tipping an invisible hat, his smile going more genuine. "Good to meet you, Grace. Are you new in town? Don't think I've seen you around before."

It's possible he just missed her, of course, but it bears asking. On the one hand, it's a small island, but on the other he did spend the last few months burying himself in work as thoroughly as he could manage, and knows for a fact that a few newcomers managed to slip under his radar.

[deepbluerevue]

“A pleasure, Mr. Kennedy.” To his question, she makes an ambivalent gesture, glancing around the room. “Not exactly new, no. I was first here a few years back, as it happens. I’m told it was about two years,” she adds, wry. (Evidently, she’s been over this already: the words come out practiced.) “Then one night I get the strangest notion to cross that sea again. Next thing I know, I’m back home with my head aching like it’s been split open.” Her arms spread, good-naturedly resigned: what can you do? “And next thing I know after that, I’m on the boat again. Funny, huh?”

Grace takes a very small sip of wine to cap her little recitation.

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

Ah, not a 'first name basis in the first few minutes of conversation' type. Fair enough! Leon makes a mental note of that as he listens to the rest of her explanation, a sense of familiarity dawning on his face as she describes her experience.

"Huh," he says. "Funny. Same thing happened to me about a year ago, actually. Though I think I only missed a few months, not, uh. Years."

He sounds very sympathetic and a little concerned. How disorienting must that be, if he was so out of sorts after only a fraction of that time?

"You need any help catching up on what's been happening around here?" he offers. "By the sound of it I think I showed up for the first time a little ways after you got back on the ferry, but if you've already heard the latest gossip I won't bother you by rehashing it."

[deepbluerevue]

Grace toasts Leon — ironically, but she’s smiling too. “To us boat commuters.”

“If I’m to be honest with you,” she continues, leaning a little closer, “people’ve been real gracious about catching me up, but they all think of different things. I think the only way I’m ever getting fully up to speed is if I hear from anyone who’ll talk!” She winks, briefly. “Which is to say, I’m all ears, young man.”

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

Leon raises his own glass in turn, smiling as well.

"Let's see... I'd say the most important thing that happened since I showed up was that we found out who put up the barrier keeping Marrow Isle separate from the rest of the world - more or less. Some months back, a handful of people wound up pulled into a vision of the ritual that caused it - carried out by cultists serving a god called -"

And here Leon pauses briefly, making sure he's got the syllables right in his head before speaking.

"- Nyarlathotep. Now, why they wanted that is still a little up in the air, but we've got someone to blame other than just shrugging and saying it's probably the demons, at least. Oh, and speaking of which, two of the demon princes are now dead."

He drums his fingertips on the table, thinking over the details.

"Not entirely sure about the specifics of what happened to Mendel, but he went down during Dahlia's birthday party last year, and Efrain got taken out by one of ours back in spring of this year, thanks in part to a little backstabbing by his brother Aster. Seems like things are starting to come to a head when it comes to their politics, so we can probably expect to be seeing more of him and Eligos soon. But other than that, I think it's mostly been a lot of comings and goings."

[deepbluerevue]

From the blankness leaking in behind Grace’s pleasant expression, this is a lot to take in. “Damn,” she says. “… Damn.”

She looks back at Leon, a wry smile twisting her mouth. “Did you know, I think I got cursed by ‘Aster’ just before I was sent back? A dancing plague. Sprained every bit of my legs, it felt like.” Right now, her legs are very still where they rest on the bar stool. Not even fidgeting.

[nothingbadeverhappensto]

"Yeah, that about sums it up, doesn't it?" Leon agrees, smiling wryly. It's a lot to take in. At that next bit though, his smile drops, a sudden weariness slamming back into him with the force of a truck.

"And that sounds about par for the course. On that note I guess on top of all that I should let you know - the last big island-shaking happening was a pretty rough one. So. If everyone seems kind of not okay right now, I promise it's not you."

Oak and Iron

[imjustaman]

A tall man with long silver hair and kind eyes is walking through the Oak and Iron. He pauses when he sees someone he doesn't recognize and goes over. "Hello," he smiles. "Have you recently arrived?"

He likes to keep track of everyone and greet the newcomers.

[deepbluerevue]

The woman turns with a practiced smile adorning her lips. “Hello to you, sir. In a sense I have. Though, it’s not my first time here. I don’t believe we’ve met?” She extends a hand, still smiling. “Do you shake hands? I’m Grace Holloway.”

[imjustaman]

"I don't believe we've met, no," Sephiroth says.

He's slightly surprised by the question. "Yes, I do." He shakes her hand in a warm grasp. "I am Sephiroth."

[deepbluerevue]

“Oh, well, you never know around here,” Grace says, to Sephiroth’s expression. “A pleasure, Mister Sephiroth.” Her hand is smooth, fingertips a little cold. “If you’d like a seat, this one isn’t taken,” she says as she pulls back.

[imjustaman]

“Really?” he says, still surprised. “I haven’t ever seen it a problem here.”

He’s wearing gloves, as is usual for him, so he wouldn’t be able to feel how her hand feels. But he smiles and nods at the offer of a seat. “Thank you.” He sits. He will be happy to visit for a little bit.

“You said it’s not your first time here. You left and came back?”

[deepbluerevue]

“I knew a few folks who preferred to bow,” Grace says pleasantly. “I suppose that’s how they did it back where they came from.”

“That’s right.” She swirls the wine in her glass. “Can you believe it? And just when I felt like I was really settling in here, too. Didn’t even get to enjoy being alive for those few seconds, my head hurt too much.” She chuckles, inviting him in on the humor.

[imjustaman]

"Ah, I see," he says.

Well, he supposes it's good she can laugh about it. He has a dark sense of humor sometimes himself.

"Time passed differently between here and there?"

[deepbluerevue]

Grace certainly seems casual about it as she shrugs. “It must have. The folks I met who’re still around say I’ve been gone for two years. And it sure wasn’t that long back home.”

She takes a longer sip of wine. “How about yourself?” she asks, voice friendly. “Settled in?”

the oak and iron!

[drharvey]

The bar scene is not usually James' thing, and that is maybe very obvious from the mere looks of him. Mild not only in mannerism, but right down to the way he's dressed — bespectacled, loose cardigan, looking very much the part of some librarian or absent-minded professor — he's giving a shy gaze around the tavern.

Shy but friendly. Hand lifted in a wave, he's tipping his head in greeting to anyone he makes eye contact with as he moves further into the place, bringing a gust of crisp autumn air in with him. Most everyone he sees is a stranger to him, but he's trying to get out and about, meet more faces, get to know folks.

James settles in to listen to the music for a bit, but also to observe the place, and it's not long at all before he takes notice of the way multiple people get up to greet the woman not far from where he's sitting. It's enough to stand out, and when another song starts up, James moves over to her, offering another shy but warm smile, a little playful.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I gotta ask — are you a celebrity around here?"

[deepbluerevue]

Her own laugh seems to startle the woman out of her return smile. “If I am, it’s news to me,” she says, her grin transformed from polite to merry. She gestures at one of the women who’d just greeted her, now off ordering her own drink. “Do you mean…? No, no, we’re just happy to see each other. I’ve been gone awhile.” She bends a wrist and rests fingertips above her heart, inclining her head in a little performer’s nod. “I don’t think we’ve met. Grace Holloway.”

[drharvey]

James' own smile widens into something brighter and a little goofy, lopsided around the edges. "Dr. Harvey. But please call me James," he adds with a tip of his head.

"It's very nice to meet you, Grace. You— you said you've been gone awhile? Do you mean... from town?"

[deepbluerevue]

Something in Grace’s expression flickers for a moment, but the smile that follows is entirely genuine. “James,” Grace says. “Lovely to meet you. And yes,” she adds, gesturing to James that he can take a seat if he’d like. “The whole island, actually. Turns out, if you come back to life for a little bit, you leave the island.” This smile is a little more sad. “It’s good to see some of the same faces are still here, after two years.”

[drharvey]

He's more than happy to take her up on that offer, moving to sit beside Grace — turning his body attentively towards her as he listens. Though almost immediately, that cheerful disposition of his sobers, startled by what he hears.

"You went back home?" And came back here, again? He didn't know such a thing was possible, and the idea of it is... a particular horror.

"I'm sorry. That must be... so jarring." To say the absolute least. James' brows pinch in empathy, more than mildly disturbed by the concept that the poor woman escaped this place, only to find herself back in it.

[deepbluerevue]

“It was, thank you,” Grace sighs, “though it feels like it barely counts as going back home. I got hit on the head, you see,” she explains, “so I came to on the ground. And then I found myself right on that ferry again.” She shakes her head, but her attention is still on James’s reactions. “A couple seconds there, and that was two whole years here, can you believe it?”

[drharvey]

Literal seconds back home... Is it more merciful that way? That time passes differently in this reality than it does back in their home worlds? Or more cruel? The sinking feeling in James' gut suggests the second, and his features tug as though physically weighted, into a deep frown. So even if he does get to go back home, it may only be temporary. And he won't even remember it. He won't remember seeing Kat again; it'll be like he never had.

"You remember... being hit on the head?" Something must have... killed her again, right? Or almost. That's how they come here. "Did someone..." James hesitates, worries his lip; the question feeling too much, too personal, but at the same time there's something that binds them all together here, as macabre as it is. Death. "Did someone hurt you?"

[deepbluerevue]

Oddly, a wry smile lightens her face a bit. “It’s sweet of you to worry. I should’ve said, I think it was a falling ceiling tile or something that got me. The whole city’s getting shook to pieces. I heard my neighbors nearby when I came to, if they get the chance they’ll come pick me up.”

Going unsaid:

(Now, were half the Droppers in question evacuating with her because they’re too ADAM-addled to get to the train without her personally leading them there? Sure. But the other half is steady, and everyone in the Pauper’s Drop Family knows to mind Miss Gracie first.

If this ends up with her getting jabbed with a medpack to bring her back to life — well, she’ll take the consequences of that over lying on the ground to drown.)