You were talking like it was the end of the world...

[unbellegeste]

The world has ended.

“Il est mort,” Jean-Louis says, and just like that, Marie could swear she can feel the earth crumbling into dust beneath her feet. Her stomach drops somewhere into her feet, except that it's also trying to leap out of her mouth. She's shaking, she thinks she's going to throw up

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[trytobegood]

As comfortable as I was speaking other languages, Cruithne being the one most oft used on the island, there was a familiarity in speaking my native D'Angeline that seemed to put me a bit more at my ease. I spoke it with Phedre and Alcuin, of course, but encountering another that spoke the language named French here was always a bit heartening.

The woman on the beach, however, seemed far from calm, and it was clear to me she was not there a moment ago. Not long in this place myself, I was unsure as to how much assistance I might provide, but I could at least try. "You are on an island, my lady, and safe," I assured her, assuming as non-threatening a posture as I could manage.

[unbellegeste]

Oh, she's not afraid of him--she's so angry right now that being afraid wouldn't occur to her. But he's not making any sense, and she stares at him for a second, trying to figure out what the 'my lady' business is and why the hell she wouldn't be safe.

"...What?"

It's not eloquent, it's just what comes out of her mouth.

[trytobegood]

"A moment ago, you were somewhere else, and suddenly you were here, correct?" I said gently. "This is the isle Tabula Rasa, a place remaining thus far a mystery in origin and nature to those of us who find themselves brought here suddenly, as you have."

I spread my hands. "I cannot tell you what brought you here, only that each of us is equally stuck. And we do what we may to make the best of what we have here. My name is Imriel."

[unbellegeste]

It's part of Marie's job to keep her mind open to all possibilities. So this--that she's suddenly been transported to this Tabula Rasa Isle where gorgeous young men call her 'my lady'--is one option, sure.

A more likely one is that she's finally cracked and all this is happening in her head. "I'm Marie," she says, stalling for the three seconds it takes to say her name. It doesn't help her know what to do or say next. "I was--my friends were just there." She points, but they're gone, and Jean-Louis' house and Max's boat are gone too. "I only looked away for a second." To throw up and cry.

[trytobegood]

"I'm sorry," I said sincerely, remembering how disorienting the experience had been, to be a familiar place with familiar people one moment and the opposite the next. "I know it is much to take in at once. I have not been in this place long, but I can attempt to explain as best I can, if you are willing to hear."

[unbellegeste]

"D'accord." And with that, Marie deflates. She wants to keep fighting, she really does. The last ten minutes have been too much to process, and she doesn't know what to fight against now. And her eyes are stinging and she's still shaking a little, from cold or crying, and it's embarrassing. So she takes a long, shuddering breath and tries to get herself together. "You're about to tell me this isn't Cap Ferret?"

[trytobegood]

I noticed she was shivering, just barely noticeable, and wished I had a cloak or somewhat to offer her. "No, it is not," I confirmed. "I am afraid I have never heard of such a place."

[unbellegeste]

Well, crap. Marie has the sneaking suspicion that her own hallucinations would know a place she's been going every year for the last ten, but that's still the most likely explanation. "What happens now? Does your magic island have a burning need for anthropologists? Because I don't even have my wallet."

[trytobegood]

"There is no need," I assured her. "Currency is of no use here, and I daresay there would be an incomprehensible variety of coin were its use to be attempted. Many here volunteer their services, and there is a barter system of sorts in some places."

[unbellegeste]

Marie looks a little bit horrified. "I'm not sure that's better," she admits. "I'm really not very useful. But that's--the society--agrarian?" She'll start putting it in terms she understands. Classifying. That has to help.