Perhaps you felt a rumble beneath your feet, a sensation of what you were standing upon giving way underneath you as something
pulled you in and away from what it was you were doing. Or, perhaps it was simply a gentle tap on your shoulder before you had the same tugging sensation from behind your navel. No matter which it was; there is one other constant:
lp...A quiet rustle of the wind, wherever it is coming from as it hits your face.
help... u...The earth grumbling beneath you resounds with something unintelligible. Of course; it's the earth. Dirt can't speak, after all. Yet it won't stop, nor does the wind. All you wanted to do was sleep...
Yet suddenly it stops, and as you begin to stir, you begin to feel the crisp wind still seems to be picking up, yet as it settles, it's almost as if it whispers something to your ear.
'elp... u... sh....Before you can make sense of it, it is gone; and when you awaken, you begin to realize your surroundings. It looks like...a plaza of some sort? As they look around them, the ground beneath them is an intricate mosaic - a water fountain at the center of the plaza in this foreign world. There are many buildings around its perimeter, making this location seem like a central hub of whatever town this was. Some may even recognize the peculiar design of the buildings and sloped tiled rooftops as a Far Eastern theme. Were they somewhere along the Pacific? Who knows! But what is quite apparent is this: Along with the many buildings surrounding the plaza, the first thing that is noticeable is the amount of people sitting or standing around you in a similar daze.
You are not alone...One building seems to stand out among all the others; one that seems large enough to house all of the completely lost and confused masses gathered here to the welcome plaza. A sign outside the door reads:
WELCOME CENTER
Newcomers: Please come inside for refreshments and your welcome packets!Odd... This wasn't written in your own language, and yet you find it easily understandable. Soon enough, if you don't enter on your own, someone comes from inside the double doors to usher you and everyone else inside.
"Welcome to
Saeng Seong! I know you must be confused as to where you are and what's going on, but we promise to explain this to you once we're inside and away from this windstorm!"
Whether you go inside immediately or linger outside a little longer, eventually you must come in from the slight autumn chill, and sooner rather than later would probably be better. ...What
was that shadow from the corner of your vision?
You'll find yourself in a well-lit lobby, filled with comfortable-looking couches and chairs. Along one wall are refreshment tables, loaded with all sorts of food and drink, including some you probably aren't familiar with. On the wall opposite are a pair of desks, each with a sign and a person seated behind them -
Irene, General AssistanceDevin, Technological AssistanceMai, Medical AssistanceUnlike a few waves before, the only people in charge seem to be the people behind the desks. They look a bit busy.
However, before you can go over and give them a piece of your mind and ask questions, the same person who ushered you inside hands you a manilla envelope that contains your welcome packet, urging you to read this before asking the two figures questions that the packet likely answers.
Inside it, you will find: a ring with a key and apartment number on it, some kind of cash card, a
map and informational guide to the city, and a letter folded neatly on the top -
Welcome to Saeng Seong!
You are among a new group of arrivals to our city, from many far-apart worlds.
We have gathered you here because our city is in a crisis, and we are at our last resorts. The energy of the city is in a slow downward spiral, and is dangerously close to expiring altogether.
That's where you come in - you and everyone else we've brought to the city. Unlike those of us here, you have the potential to generate the energy the city needs, but you'll need to work together to do it.
Why? Because the energy can only be generated when two people touch each other. Any touch will do, but it must be between two of you who are new to the city. If you don't keep in contact with someone, eventually your energy will begin to drain as well, making you dangerously ill.
A few other things:
The closed-off sections of the city are closed off for a reason; approaching them will cause your energy to drain very rapidly. We're working to open the rest of the city to you as soon as we can, but for now, please remain within the four districts in the south and west parts of the city
You have been given a key to a one-bedroom apartment in a complex set aside for you and the other new arrivals, near the riverside in the 1st district. You're free to change your living quarters whenever you like, and we encourage you to move in with someone in one of the larger apartments. When you want to change, just come back to this building to exchange your key.
We've also included a cash card with a living stipend; if you're unfamiliar with this system, or the network established for new arrivals, you can talk to Devin in the lobby for help. It's what he's here for. If you need medical assistance, contact Mai, one of our newest and brightest doctors.
Again, welcome, and thank you for all your help.
Irene
Arrival Liaison
Back behind you, others still linger, and through the translucent glass you can see a banner hanging from the tiled roof of the building across the street in the blistering summer day:
WELCOME TO SAENG SEONG
(ENJOY YOUR STAY!)
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rekindleme2013-10-18 07:17 pm
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Magic that is similar to what was around the butterfly, coincidentally.
When he hears the question about his butterfly, Diarmuid's sad expression brightens. This is a topic he enjoys talking about.
"He's not an insect at all! He's my pet. Dia was made by my father so I would never have to be alone. He knows what I want even before I tell him sometimes. Isn't that neat?"
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The story of how the butterfly was created reminds him a little of something his
subjectfriend(?) Walter Bishop would do. This inexplicably softens his objectivity a hair, and he finds himself putting a hand out for the butterfly to land on so that he might look more closely at it."There is a link between your mind and his," he murmurs.
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For a moment Diarmuid's expression saddens again, "He can't find me when I'm here. And I couldn't remember this place when I went back home. I wish I could! I want to tell Father about all the people I have met here. I want him to know I met Cu Chulainn. And I want to tell him about Lord Wing and Suzaku and Deadlock and I can tell him about you too! He loves stories, that is why I want to tell him all the stories of this place!"
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"Memory is often affected by interuniversal travel." A thought comes to him, that the boy might be from a time period before literacy was common. "Do you know how to write?"
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He ponders a thought, still looking at the butterfly on his finger. There is something warm to his voice when he speaks, next, maybe the slightest hint of a smile. "Maybe you could tell these stories to someone else who could write them down."
No worries. It happens. :-)
"I would like to do that! Father has told me so many stories and taught me so many songs. I know I am little still, but I remember them all. Especially the ones about my hero! Those are my very favorites!" Diarmuid claps his hands together excitedly and gives September an expectant look, "Do you know someone who would like to hear my stories? Someone who would care enough to write them down?"
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...record significant events.
Like stories.
"I do not know anyone here. I have only arrived. If you do not find someone among those you know... I can record them."
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Diarmuid falls silent for a moment, hand coming up to his mouth. He is obviously thinking about something and that something is making him kind of sad, "I had a few people who were going to listen to my stories and tell me some of theirs, but they got really sick and had to go home. Now, I don't know who will want to listen to my stories. It would be nice if you did, but I will understand if you are busy, since you are new."
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"I'm known as September." Hm. If Walter were there, he'd have probably come up with a name. Maybe September should find someone to think one up.
The request makes him headtilt. He had offered, so why was the boy asking like this? However, he vaguely remembers learning about social mores regarding requests and offers. "I do not see any reason not to record your stories," he answers mildly. "It will be educational for me." A beat. "I do not have anything else that I must do."
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For a moment, the boy's face falls, though he looks confused as well, almost as if he is not sure why he's sad. He shakes it off quickly and soon turns a bright smile up at September, "I would very much like you to write my stories down! Maybe you can show me how to write while you do? I'm trying very hard to learn how to write using the letters they have here."
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"What sort of letters?" he asks.
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