[Mattie feels the ground give way under her feet, panic closing off her throat as she begins to fall, scrabbling uselessly at dirt and brush
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"You'll break your hand before you dent that wall." The voice comes out soft but the astute listener will detect signs of strain, a certain underlying tautness. As for the accent, it's American, innocuous as a newscaster's.
Silence follows--Don leaves the tablet where it lies and gets to his feet. He forces himself to take a breath instead of going off in search of something to smash or a door to slam.
"Hello," he says, scooping up the tablet, speaking more authoritatively now. "My name is Don and I arrived here in the room you're standing in now. I can tell you the way out."
"My aim was to draw attention, not to knock it down," Mattie answers disdainfully. There's something about authoritative adults that tend to put her back up, like she's expecting to be ignored or dismissed. Mattie hates being dismissed. "I am no physician but I do know that bones are weaker than walls."
Still, a girl recently bereft of a beloved father and then separated from a surrogate she has developed a sincere fondness for, will naturally gravitate toward finding another way of filling that gap. So her next words are more conciliatory. "If you can, then please do."
"I wouldn't worry about that," he says--wryly--regarding her stated aim, but no clarification is forthcoming. The girl's manner of dress and style of speech mark her, unlike anyone else in the city, as from a time before his own. And miniaturized television sets broadcasting with an unreal clarity had given him enough trouble--more than enough.
"If you follow my voice it'll lead you to the pedestal. On top of the pedestal will be...it's a mechanism that opens the door, and it's housed in a small, rectangular box. You'll have to pick it up."
There's no reason for Mattie to trust anything she's being told, of course, but she does. Not because she's the kind of girl who blindly follows where she's led, but because she expects people to uphold a certain standard of decency. And decent people (unless they're murdering cowards) don't lie to young women.
"What will happen if I pick it up?" She hesitates with her hand over the pedestal, realizing that the thing being described is what she'd referred to with Godric as a mirror. It isn't mistrust of Don that stops her, but natural wariness of touching an alien object.
"The door opens. That's all." Don doesn't fault her her reluctance; in fact the show of caution is as heartening as anything he's seen in the past ten minutes. If a young girl is to be the newest addition to Taxon's population, better she not be wide-eyed and credulous. "When you walk through it, be sure you have everything you need. There's no going back."
A quick look around her verifies that whatever brought Mattie to this place didn't bother to pick up any supplies along the way, and a hand slipped into her pocket reveals that despite her hopes, she has only her father's gold piece in the way of coin.
"It does not seem my kidnappers saw fit to transport my belongings. I have nothing to leave behind. I understand there is a town of some kind?"
She's still hesitating, not quite ready to be coaxed out into this strange world.
And there's one cat out of the bag. Don doesn't bother wondering who else the girl's talked to or what they've told her--he feels confident assuming the worst.
"It's bigger than a town." He closes his eyes, tries and fails to avoid picturing the dusty line of shops she'll be expecting. "Has anyone arranged to meet you?" he asks listlessly.
Most everyone Mattie's spoken to has tried to be helpful, so it's not really their fault that she suspects she might have been dropped into some kind of lunatic asylum.
"My father once traveled to St. Louis. He said it was full to bursting with people," Mattie remarks, wondering if that's the kind of 'bigger than a town' he means. Fort Smith is one thing, a population of three thousand is something manageable. Mattie isn't sure how to approach a place where the inhabitants could number in the tens or even hundreds of thousands. "I am perfectly capable of finding a boarding house on my own."
It's then--at her obstinate insistence that she'll find a boarding house--that the full force of what she'll have to deal with hits him. Tablets, the extras, hatches--Don doubts she'll starve (there are stores, and the extras staffing them should be able to explain the credit system), but she will be irretrievably lost.
"Look." He sighs, heavily. "I'm six feet tall and forty years old. I have brown hair. I'll be wearing a bracelet like the one on your wrist. Wait outside the door."
Things might go easier with someone a little less independently-minded than Mattie Ross. It's admirable of Don to be willing to put in the effort it's likely to take.
"Bracelet?" She's been so concerned with her surroundings that Mattie hasn't even thought to check the condition of her own body. Now that her attention has been drawn to it, however, she can feel the unfamiliar coolness of metal against her skin, and shoves her sleeve up to investigate. "What is it for? I have no recollection of putting on any jewelry."
She realizes that his words might be interpreted to mean that the conversation is at an end, and grabs for the tablet. "Wait! You cannot expect me to meet with a stranger with only half a name to go on."
Don, the way he figures it, doesn't have much choice. If he had reason to trust the members of Taxon's fledgling police force--or a means of contacting them--he wouldn't hesitate to make the girl their problem.
He's left his tablet on--as he takes a welcome swallow of whiskey, a girl the height of a pencil snatches her tablet off the pedestal. Unhurriedly he finishes his drink, diluting his anger a little. He puts the glass down and crosses back to the tablet. "Donald Draper, at your service."
[voice] shall we turn this into an action thread? :) verylittlesugarMarch 22 2011, 13:52:51 UTC
"I am Mattie Ross." She's holding the tablet gingerly, like she's afraid it will break (or burst into flames). "There is a door now, like you said. I expect I am supposed to wait for you outside there? I will not wait all day."
Can't sound too grateful, people might think she actually needs help.
[location: the sanctuary] it'll be a non-stop thrill ride of a threadselfmadmanMarch 22 2011, 18:06:32 UTC
It takes him twenty minutes--a span of time that, for some kids, might as well be all day, but he suspects either fear or good sense will keep her from straying too far. He looks as advertised: the hair's combed back, dark and glossy, and he wears a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a watch on one wrist and a very fashionable shackle on the other.
"Miss Mattie Ross," he says, eyebrows arched expectantly. It's not really a question--there aren't two people in Taxon who'd answer to her description. "I'm Don--Mr. Draper."
[location: the sanctuary] you may really come to regret this decision, don ;)verylittlesugarMarch 22 2011, 18:28:00 UTC
Luckily, Mattie is just enough of the stubborn sort to wait without wandering (not patiently, but she'll wait nonetheless). Twenty minutes isn't much, though, especially not for a girl from an era when travel was measured in hours and days, so she's barely begun to feel fidgety when Don arrives.
"Yes, I am Mattie Ross." She's an incongruous little thing, severe dark braids and a young face, dressed in over-large men's clothes a hat that nearly covers her eyes. She has respectable manners, though, despite the sharp tongue, and she holds out her hand for Don to shake. "I will not say that it is a pleasure to find myself in such inconvenient circumstances, but I am grateful for your assistance. If you will direct me to a place where I might purchase lodging, I will not continue to be a burden on your time."
[location: the sanctuary] Don isn't aware decisions come in varieties other than "regrettable"selfmadmanMarch 22 2011, 20:34:03 UTC
Don takes her hand--the corner of his mouth twitches, but it's a long ways off from a smile--and shakes at half strength. "You're welcome. Take that hat off, you're indoors." ("And you look ridiculous" is the unspoken addendum.)
He fishes a cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket, lights up. "If you want you can live here--in this building--and it won't cost a thing." He exhales smoke, points to her tablet. "Can I see your..."
[location: the sanctuary] then they should get along JUST FINEverylittlesugarMarch 22 2011, 22:10:39 UTC
Mattie's handshake is strong and firm, for someone her size at least, and she meets Don's eyes with a frank gaze. His admonishment about her hat catches her off-guard, though, and she responds with the speed of a girl raised to respect certain types of authority (particularly the psuedo-fatherly kind).
"In this building?" She looks behind her and wrinkles her nose at the idea. It isn't the most welcoming building she's ever laid eyes on, with its cool blank walls and eerie quiet. "What kind of place is it that offers rooms for free?"
A suspicious kind of place, that's what. And that's a suspicious kind of request her eyes, Mr. Draper. Not that she's attached the strange thing, but he referred to it as 'hers', and she hasn't much else to hang onto in the manner of possessions at the moment. "Why?"
Silence follows--Don leaves the tablet where it lies and gets to his feet. He forces himself to take a breath instead of going off in search of something to smash or a door to slam.
"Hello," he says, scooping up the tablet, speaking more authoritatively now. "My name is Don and I arrived here in the room you're standing in now. I can tell you the way out."
Reply
Still, a girl recently bereft of a beloved father and then separated from a surrogate she has developed a sincere fondness for, will naturally gravitate toward finding another way of filling that gap. So her next words are more conciliatory. "If you can, then please do."
Reply
"If you follow my voice it'll lead you to the pedestal. On top of the pedestal will be...it's a mechanism that opens the door, and it's housed in a small, rectangular box. You'll have to pick it up."
Reply
"What will happen if I pick it up?" She hesitates with her hand over the pedestal, realizing that the thing being described is what she'd referred to with Godric as a mirror. It isn't mistrust of Don that stops her, but natural wariness of touching an alien object.
Reply
His own return notwithstanding.
Reply
"It does not seem my kidnappers saw fit to transport my belongings. I have nothing to leave behind. I understand there is a town of some kind?"
She's still hesitating, not quite ready to be coaxed out into this strange world.
Reply
"It's bigger than a town." He closes his eyes, tries and fails to avoid picturing the dusty line of shops she'll be expecting. "Has anyone arranged to meet you?" he asks listlessly.
Reply
"My father once traveled to St. Louis. He said it was full to bursting with people," Mattie remarks, wondering if that's the kind of 'bigger than a town' he means. Fort Smith is one thing, a population of three thousand is something manageable. Mattie isn't sure how to approach a place where the inhabitants could number in the tens or even hundreds of thousands. "I am perfectly capable of finding a boarding house on my own."
Reply
"Look." He sighs, heavily. "I'm six feet tall and forty years old. I have brown hair. I'll be wearing a bracelet like the one on your wrist. Wait outside the door."
Time to pour himself a drink.
Reply
"Bracelet?" She's been so concerned with her surroundings that Mattie hasn't even thought to check the condition of her own body. Now that her attention has been drawn to it, however, she can feel the unfamiliar coolness of metal against her skin, and shoves her sleeve up to investigate. "What is it for? I have no recollection of putting on any jewelry."
She realizes that his words might be interpreted to mean that the conversation is at an end, and grabs for the tablet. "Wait! You cannot expect me to meet with a stranger with only half a name to go on."
And that's when she sees the door reveal itself.
Reply
He's left his tablet on--as he takes a welcome swallow of whiskey, a girl the height of a pencil snatches her tablet off the pedestal. Unhurriedly he finishes his drink, diluting his anger a little. He puts the glass down and crosses back to the tablet. "Donald Draper, at your service."
Reply
Can't sound too grateful, people might think she actually needs help.
Reply
"Miss Mattie Ross," he says, eyebrows arched expectantly. It's not really a question--there aren't two people in Taxon who'd answer to her description. "I'm Don--Mr. Draper."
Reply
"Yes, I am Mattie Ross." She's an incongruous little thing, severe dark braids and a young face, dressed in over-large men's clothes a hat that nearly covers her eyes. She has respectable manners, though, despite the sharp tongue, and she holds out her hand for Don to shake. "I will not say that it is a pleasure to find myself in such inconvenient circumstances, but I am grateful for your assistance. If you will direct me to a place where I might purchase lodging, I will not continue to be a burden on your time."
Reply
He fishes a cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket, lights up. "If you want you can live here--in this building--and it won't cost a thing." He exhales smoke, points to her tablet. "Can I see your..."
Reply
"In this building?" She looks behind her and wrinkles her nose at the idea. It isn't the most welcoming building she's ever laid eyes on, with its cool blank walls and eerie quiet. "What kind of place is it that offers rooms for free?"
A suspicious kind of place, that's what. And that's a suspicious kind of request her eyes, Mr. Draper. Not that she's attached the strange thing, but he referred to it as 'hers', and she hasn't much else to hang onto in the manner of possessions at the moment. "Why?"
Reply
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