Somehow, she'd wound up staying at the party much later than anticipated, and from there, the only logical course of action had seemed to be heading to the bar she'd managed to locate on one of her island explorations. After a few beers, she'd just started to walk - but walking in a pair of heels she's only just wrested out of the clothes box, a pair she hasn't quite broken in yet, has her feet screaming for respite, and she ditches the shoes in favor of walking barefoot along the beach. She even dares to swim, in the early morning hours when no one else is awake, stripping down to her underwear and taking advantage of the peaceful time to let herself bob without drifting too far away from the shoreline
( ... )
Auggie lets out a breath he doesn't even know he's holding.
He isn't sure who he expected would be there, but then again, he didn't expect to be on a beach to begin with. He turns in the direction of the voice and the quick approach of feet against sand.
"Annie?" he replies, just as loud as she'd said his. He's sure it's her (who else could it be?), but he's not sure why she's here. Even if this was even approaching normal protocol, she wouldn't have been part of the pick up team.
Of course, it doesn't stop him from being infinitely glad to hear her voice when nothing else is making sense to him at that moment. At least he recognizes one thing.
The sound of her own name is the final confirmation she needs - she's already figured out it's him by the way he searches for her voice by turning his head to hear her. He can't see her, can't confirm the visual of her approaching, but Annie's positive she's making enough noise to make up for it.
Sand flies around her feet as she manages to shuffle to a stop just in front of him, skidding less than gracefully. She's not even concerned about how clumsy she looks and she's already throwing both arms around him, practically tackling him in the form of a hug. Only then does it strike her, how long it's been since she's seen him, or Jai, or Joan - anything that could be categorized as distinctly non-island.
"I can't believe you're here," she mumbles, against his shoulder.
The force of the hug nearly makes him stumble backwards, and it doesn't help he doesn't see it coming (for very obvious reasons). He's not exactly surprised she's happy to see him in one piece the way they had ended their last conversation, but she's almost acting like didn't think he'd be on the plane she knew he'd be on. Still, he wraps one arm around her, returning the hug.
There's something different about her too, he notices, now that she's closer. Not dramatically, but she smells of the ocean he's now aware has suddenly appeared too. It just serves to confuse him more.
"You did send me here," he points out, and the gladness of just seeing her starts to be replaced by the creeping thoughts of what the hell is going on. "Which, I'm been meaning to ask, where are we exactly?"
And what happened to Khani?
And what happened to the airport he just landed in?
Wolf is soaked. His overalls are dripping and the red t-shirt he wears under them is completely drenched, his hair hanging in limp, wet strands all over his face, but he's happy. So happy, in fact, that as he wanders up the beach, sand clinging to his wet feet, he doesn't notice the other man at first. It's only when he speaks that Wolf looks up, a smile blooming across his face and he wanders closer, picking up his pace.
"Hi!" he says brightly, dripping on the sand. The cuffs of his overalls are caked with sand as well, but he doesn't even notice. "I'm Wolf! How come you've got that cane?"
The stranger smells of the ocean. If Auggie isn't sure he's near one before, he is now, as much as it flies in the face of anything logical he can think of. Not that the sudden disappearance of an entire airplane wasn't baffling enough to him. This man, though, he seems completely unfazed by all of it, like it's just another normal day and he's on a vacation.
What he doesn't seem like, at all, is anyone who would be connected to picking up a terrorist.
"It matches my outfit," he manages to joke, a weak half-grin lifting. At this point, he's just choosing to be grateful this person doesn't seem to be any kind of threat. Motioning to his face a moment later, he adds, "I'm blind, so I use it to walk. Speaking of, Wolf, was it? Could you tell me where I am right now?"
Wolf looks down at the cane and then back up at the man's face again, trying to work out how he uses it because he can't see. Eventually, the way he probably taps it on the ground clicks in Wolf's mind and he remembers seeing people using similar things back home when they couldn't see. It's different, though, a different world and a different sort of cane.
"The island," he says after a moment. "You probably came here by magic, just like me. Just like everyone, I think, 'cause there's not much else that it could be, right? Wolf! I don't know what kind of magic, 'cause I can't get back home. No one can." After another moment of thinking, he realizes he isn't explaining it very well and he feels bad. Wolf just isn't good at this sort of thing and he wishes someone else would come along, someone who can explain it better. "It's hard to make it make sense," he says apologetically.
By Wolf's tone of voice, Auggie knows he's either very good at lying or is actually sincere in what he's saying. He's not really sure what would be worse in this situation, because the former means he's being deceptive and the latter means he's crazy. This whole situation is insane, sure, but there's a limit to how much he can believe. Throwing 'magic' into any explanation passes that limit by a lot
( ... )
O-Ren stands only a little bit closer to him than she might have before, head own head cocked as if intensely observing. Her feet had been nearly silent on the sand as she approached, but when she catches sight of his cane, it makes sense.
As if his surroundings weren't baffling enough, the person who speaks sounds too young to be anywhere on an airport tarmac, or what had been a tarmac a few minutes ago. If he hadn't known already how it felt to have a concussion, he knew he'd be wondering at this point if the fight he'd just been recently in had injured him worst than he thought.
Still, strange or not, he turns toward the voice, which has a tone far more level than he'd expect from the age she sounds like.
"I'm trying to figure out where 'here' is," he explains, hoping, maybe, this girl might be able to clear at least point him in the direction of anyone in charge. "Explain what, exactly?"
"Here is a tropical island in the middle of nowhere," O-Ren tells him, watching him sharply. She's seen this as a disguise before, and she's seen more than one master of the deadly arts whom has not grown any softer for blindness. "There's no real explaining it, actually. You're just unlucky. Or dead. A lot of us are dead."
It's so blunt he's not sure what to say, not at first. That it's coming from someone obviously younger makes it even more surprising.
"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm not dead, last time I checked," he replies, eyebrows furrowing. "You said there's a lot of people here? How many?"
He needs information. He's obviously somewhere that isn't D.C., and unsettling as this girl is, she seems to know something. At least, more than he does.
Jon hadn't been on the island very long but it was long enough to get tired of the clinic and quickly. He had never done well with being idle and being injured and idle was worse than usual. So, after a day or so of rest, he decided to walk the island (gingerly, at least) and figured with Ghost by his side, he might be able to fend off danger.
The island seemed safe. Jon didn't know if he should be reassured by that or more suspicious.
The man calling out on the beach reminded him of his own confusion when he'd arrived and he drew closer. His eyes seemed unfocused, somehow, and he half-wondered if he might be blind, like Maester Aemon.
"Jon Snow." He almost added Lord Commander of the Night's Watch but he didn't know that this meant anything on the island. Probably not. "Have you just arrived?"
There's a distinct smell of some kind of...dog, he guesses? It grows stronger as the person he noticed was there walks closer. The idea of an animal on the tarmac isn't completely uncalled for, but they obviously aren't on anything approaching a runway right now.
And despite his wariness, the man seems to be concerned for his well-being enough to stop for him. It's not a question he's expecting (arrived where?), but it's something.
"Auggie Anderson," he says in reply. He doesn't mention being part of any organization, so it's not someone here to question him about why he had managed to bring back a terrorist. "I've arrived somewhere. Where that somewhere is what I'm trying to figure out right now."
“It’s an island, as best as I can gather. I haven’t had much of a chance to explore it yet and do my own ranging, so the size and terrain, I can’t tell you.” It was crisp and precise, but not unkind. Jon still didn’t feel entirely comfortable on the island because he didn’t know it like he knew the North and knew the Wall and until he felt well enough to go ranging, he wouldn’t begin feeling comfortable with it.
“Well met, Auggie Anderson.” It wasn’t a name from Westeros, anyway, and Jon felt a pang of disappointment at that. That, at least, could have been familiar. “Where did you come from?”
"Just Auggie is fine," he says, though sounds a bit distracted by the other portion of what he's just told him. Island? Everything he senses go along with that, but it makes no sense at all logically to him. He knows - knows - that he was in some kind of airport a few minutes ago.
"Washington, D.C.," he answers. eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Which is why I'm wondering how I can be standing here right now."
Jess knew she'd never seen him before, which almost certainly meant he was new to the island. Especially since he was alone and staring at the water, looking lost. She was surprised when he turned to look in her direction, since she didn't think she'd been making that much noise as she crossed the sand. Once he turned, that was when she realized he wasn't looking in her direction at all.
"My name's Jess," she said before she got intrusively close. "Do you know where you are?"
Auggie finds some relief in at least the other person nearby sounding like she means no harm. He can't be sure about anything right now, though, and he still remains wary despite the fact she seems to be approaching in a way to help him.
"Do I look that lost?" he asks, a weak smile lifting up on his face. He doesn't think she has any part of this, but she does seem like she might know more than he does. "I've guessed I'm on a beach. Which beach and why I'm suddenly on it is something I'm hoping you might know something about."
"Was it the sand or the waves that gave it away?" said Jess, and if he couldn't see that she was smiling, she hoped that he could hear it. It wasn't exactly a cheerful moment, not for anyone, but she could at least make it as painless as possible. "You're on an island, and I'd tell you which island or where it is, but the truth is that I don't know. Nobody here knows."
"Those were pretty big hints," he agrees. And before he can ask anything else, she launches herself into an explanation he'd been wanting. One that also unfortunately gives him next to nothing to work with.
"How did we get here exactly, then?" he asks, since she hadn't mentioned that. Already all he can think about is how much he needs to collect more information. It's the first thing any agent is taught to do.
Comments 154
Somehow, she'd wound up staying at the party much later than anticipated, and from there, the only logical course of action had seemed to be heading to the bar she'd managed to locate on one of her island explorations. After a few beers, she'd just started to walk - but walking in a pair of heels she's only just wrested out of the clothes box, a pair she hasn't quite broken in yet, has her feet screaming for respite, and she ditches the shoes in favor of walking barefoot along the beach. She even dares to swim, in the early morning hours when no one else is awake, stripping down to her underwear and taking advantage of the peaceful time to let herself bob without drifting too far away from the shoreline ( ... )
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He isn't sure who he expected would be there, but then again, he didn't expect to be on a beach to begin with. He turns in the direction of the voice and the quick approach of feet against sand.
"Annie?" he replies, just as loud as she'd said his. He's sure it's her (who else could it be?), but he's not sure why she's here. Even if this was even approaching normal protocol, she wouldn't have been part of the pick up team.
Of course, it doesn't stop him from being infinitely glad to hear her voice when nothing else is making sense to him at that moment. At least he recognizes one thing.
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Sand flies around her feet as she manages to shuffle to a stop just in front of him, skidding less than gracefully. She's not even concerned about how clumsy she looks and she's already throwing both arms around him, practically tackling him in the form of a hug. Only then does it strike her, how long it's been since she's seen him, or Jai, or Joan - anything that could be categorized as distinctly non-island.
"I can't believe you're here," she mumbles, against his shoulder.
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There's something different about her too, he notices, now that she's closer. Not dramatically, but she smells of the ocean he's now aware has suddenly appeared too. It just serves to confuse him more.
"You did send me here," he points out, and the gladness of just seeing her starts to be replaced by the creeping thoughts of what the hell is going on. "Which, I'm been meaning to ask, where are we exactly?"
And what happened to Khani?
And what happened to the airport he just landed in?
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"Hi!" he says brightly, dripping on the sand. The cuffs of his overalls are caked with sand as well, but he doesn't even notice. "I'm Wolf! How come you've got that cane?"
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What he doesn't seem like, at all, is anyone who would be connected to picking up a terrorist.
"It matches my outfit," he manages to joke, a weak half-grin lifting. At this point, he's just choosing to be grateful this person doesn't seem to be any kind of threat. Motioning to his face a moment later, he adds, "I'm blind, so I use it to walk. Speaking of, Wolf, was it? Could you tell me where I am right now?"
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"The island," he says after a moment. "You probably came here by magic, just like me. Just like everyone, I think, 'cause there's not much else that it could be, right? Wolf! I don't know what kind of magic, 'cause I can't get back home. No one can." After another moment of thinking, he realizes he isn't explaining it very well and he feels bad. Wolf just isn't good at this sort of thing and he wishes someone else would come along, someone who can explain it better. "It's hard to make it make sense," he says apologetically.
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O-Ren stands only a little bit closer to him than she might have before, head own head cocked as if intensely observing. Her feet had been nearly silent on the sand as she approached, but when she catches sight of his cane, it makes sense.
"There's no easy way to explain this."
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Still, strange or not, he turns toward the voice, which has a tone far more level than he'd expect from the age she sounds like.
"I'm trying to figure out where 'here' is," he explains, hoping, maybe, this girl might be able to clear at least point him in the direction of anyone in charge. "Explain what, exactly?"
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"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm not dead, last time I checked," he replies, eyebrows furrowing. "You said there's a lot of people here? How many?"
He needs information. He's obviously somewhere that isn't D.C., and unsettling as this girl is, she seems to know something. At least, more than he does.
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The island seemed safe. Jon didn't know if he should be reassured by that or more suspicious.
The man calling out on the beach reminded him of his own confusion when he'd arrived and he drew closer. His eyes seemed unfocused, somehow, and he half-wondered if he might be blind, like Maester Aemon.
"Jon Snow." He almost added Lord Commander of the Night's Watch but he didn't know that this meant anything on the island. Probably not. "Have you just arrived?"
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And despite his wariness, the man seems to be concerned for his well-being enough to stop for him. It's not a question he's expecting (arrived where?), but it's something.
"Auggie Anderson," he says in reply. He doesn't mention being part of any organization, so it's not someone here to question him about why he had managed to bring back a terrorist. "I've arrived somewhere. Where that somewhere is what I'm trying to figure out right now."
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“Well met, Auggie Anderson.” It wasn’t a name from Westeros, anyway, and Jon felt a pang of disappointment at that. That, at least, could have been familiar. “Where did you come from?”
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"Washington, D.C.," he answers. eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Which is why I'm wondering how I can be standing here right now."
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"My name's Jess," she said before she got intrusively close. "Do you know where you are?"
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"Do I look that lost?" he asks, a weak smile lifting up on his face. He doesn't think she has any part of this, but she does seem like she might know more than he does. "I've guessed I'm on a beach. Which beach and why I'm suddenly on it is something I'm hoping you might know something about."
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"How did we get here exactly, then?" he asks, since she hadn't mentioned that. Already all he can think about is how much he needs to collect more information. It's the first thing any agent is taught to do.
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