This, one knows, is not one's home. (OTA)

[foulnfair]

When night had come and quiet seemed to descend of a different kind than Macbeth had known, he crawled to the bed and slept as if dying. Or perhaps he was already dead, then awoke still in this strange place. Hauvratat. The water in the washroom was clean, and clear; he drank eagerly then washed himself, clothes cast aside and rank. New clothing

Comments

[drhartdixie]

Zoe wasn't paying attention to where she was going, but she was paying attention to her surroundings. Trying to figure out what the hell. She was still under the impression that while it wasn't a dream it was obviously a stress break because no one outside of a novel or movie ended up in a magical village.

Her head was to the left, watching what she could have sworn was a blond woman twirling a wooden stake in her hand. "Okay that settles it, I have gone crazy." Zoe mumbled and turned her head just in time to see a guy ahead of her. She stopped a bare foot from him, her eyes wide from the almost collision. "God. Sorry!"

[foulnfair]

A hand snaked out, gripping her arm almost too tightly. Macbeth had seen her approach and waited. Her clothing was impractical. "What is it you see?" he asked, that she found so engaging as to nearly run someone down?

[drhartdixie]

"Okay, tell me I am not the only one seeing that blond over there twirling a stick that looks like a stake." She pointed over to where Buffy was practicing moves in the open grassy area by the building.

[foulnfair]

Still holding her arm, Macbeth turned to look where she pointed.

A bigger threat, certainly. For a moment, it was as if his voice would not work, and it came out croaked. "What of it?"

[drhartdixie]

"Because if you do." Zoe said easily, "it means that I'm not having hallucinations. We both see something weird." She tugged on her arm. "Which means just one more weird in a village full of weird."

[foulnfair]

Hallucinations?

That caught Macbeth unawares. He frowned, looking between the two women. "It is as you see," he said quietly, letting go of her arm, finally. "Are you not easy of mind?"

[drhartdixie]

"My mind is so far from easy it's not even funny." Zoe nodded. "I mean come on. How else can I show up in a magical village?" She did verbal air quotes around magical. "Unless my mind broke. I thought I was dreaming at first but my dreams would never be like this."

They'd probably have Patrick Dempsey in them.

[foulnfair]

Knowing too well the strife of a mind left broken. "How this place is is a mystery." Foul was fair and the alternate was true as well.

[drhartdixie]

"Exactly." Zoe held up her fist for a fist bump. "Someone that finally isn't all Team Haurvatat." Not that she had anything against those that were. She actually like Felecia but she wasn't there yet.

[foulnfair]

That gesture wasn't meant violently and Macbeth did not interpret it so. What this woman meant, he could not be sure, watching her askance.

[drhartdixie]

Zoe pointed to her fist. "Fist bump?" She shook head with a smile and lowered her hand. "Never mind. It's just nice to know that someone else here is finding this place messed up. I'm Zoe by the way."

[foulnfair]

She spoke as one with the energy of youth, or the crazed. Macbeth studied her with unblinking eyes. Did he dare tell her his name? Would she not run in fear? Or doubt as those who had confronted him before?

"I am Macbeth," he finally answered, words sharp in his brogue.

[drhartdixie]

Zoe just assumed he had the last name of Macbeth, not that he was Shakespeare's. Who would? That was a fictional character.

"Well, Macbeth nice to meet you. I'm going to guess you're brand new like me, too. I'll let you in on a secret, killing brain cells with alcohol helps a lot."

[foulnfair]

His laugh was low and dry; a husk. He had precious few braincells left to waste them on alcohol. "Ah, but to forget," he said, rueful. He could not.

[drhartdixie]

"Exactly!" Zoe nodded her head. "That's the best part, but you have to hit the right ones." Or it might have been quantity. "It makes this wacky village easier to take." And it definitely made it easier to forget Wade.

[foulnfair]

Life was more than Macbeth could bear; after all he'd lost ... everything.

"All of this," he said slowly, deliberately, "is nothing."