the songbirds are singing like the know the score

[straightupbitch]

Holding grudges has always come easily to Santana; she's a monstrous bitch, it's in the job description. Until now, she was doing really well, too, rolling her eyes at Brittany's ridiculous spelling errors and pretending not to care that it went unnoticed when she finally wore that stupid shirt. Plus, being all but outed on YouTube, mortifying

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[velation]

People arrive on this place with alarming regularity, Faye's found. Even though a part of her knows that she's still relatively new, only having walked the beaches of Tabula Rasa for three months, it feels like practically half of the population's changed since her arrival. Stories pop up around the kitchen, even though she never lingers for long, always an entry that takes out the impact of the last. Someone even crash-landed (in a manner of speaking) in a Port-a-Potty. Wonders never cease.

So it's in a relatively blasé manner that Faye turns to look at the new girl on the beach, voice not quite at the level of screeching, though it may be a pretty close thing. And who can blame her? It's not every day a person gets pulled through some kind of impossible wormhole. She's laid out on the beach, this time with a makeshift tarp to ward away most of the sun; although Faye loves the feel of the sun's rays pouring down, she also knows that her complexion is best when pale (when one's hair is naturally purple, it pays to care a bit more about these things). While she's tempted to just brush the new arrival off, there's more than a slight bit of sentimentality that finally has her leaning forward, pushing off the sand, brow arched.

"First time teleporting, I take it?" she asks.

[straightupbitch]

Okay, sue her, already Santana has made her first cultural faux pas by jumping to an assumption, but there are only so many Asian families in Lima and Tina has an obvious (and ill-advised) affinity for outrageous hair dyes. Her first thought is older sister, perhaps, and her second that it's clear where all the looks went in that gene pool. Her third thought rounds right back to what the hell she's doing on the beach, the nearest of which is a good billion hours away from where she was last standing. Fourth, she finally processes what Tina's maybe-sister is saying, and in a fit of frustration at her blasé attitude kicks haphazardly at the sand. "This isn't Star Trek, lady, how's about some real answers?"

[velation]

On the bright side, skepticism is usually a fairly good indicator of intelligence, Faye thinks to herself. The arrivals she tosses aside without a second thought tend to be those who treat the island like it's some kind of magical amusement park or Neverland, never questioning, never wondering. Optimists. Faye likes to think of herself, on the other hand, as a realist, someone who keeps her guard up at all times on that hunk of rock, but also doesn't bother sticking out her neck to help everyone else at her own expense. With a faint grin, she shakes her head lightly. Poor kid. Probably from one of the more mundane worlds, meaning she's in for quite the shock.

"I'm sure you could find some genius on this island with a plausible explanation involving wormholes and tears in the fabric of space and time, but believe me, I know how crazy it sounds," Faye replies with a light shrug. "Doesn't mean you're any less stuck. Do you want the long version or the short version?"

[straightupbitch]

Trust, Santana imagines, is something that must come much easier to the nice and harmless folk of the world. Someone inherently mean such as herself can never trust with ease, always projecting their own expecations on others and anticipating the worst. For the most part, Santana considers this a matter of pride, one of many traits that put her more than a few steps higher on than fellow classmates on the food chain, a catlike she-shark ruthlessly claiming her place above all others. But never before has she been tested like this, and for the first time in a while, she feels the impulse to retreat. (Okay, that's a lie, she's been doing a lot of running away lately, but this is entirely different.)

Unfamiliar as she is with wherever she's standing, Santana remains in place, considering instead the two options before her. "Short," she decides, if only because her mind far too scattered at the moment to process the long version.

[velation]

"Someone took the fabric of space and time and tore it all to shreds," Faye says first. It's easier to try and justify the events on Tabula Rasa through a more scientific lens, easier than trying to get other people to believe in magic right off the bat. Faye's never believed in magic herself, after all, and she's still not sure what to think of it now. In her mind, magic has positive connotations, hints at the impossible being made possible. Miracles in front of everyone's eyes. Tabula Rasa pales by comparison- if anything, it's more of a curse.

"Meaning people show up here from different times, places, parallel universes. They show up, they disappear, but we haven't figured out a way to control it yet. So, you're stuck. But at least, if you need a shower or a meal, they don't ask you to pay out of pocket."