Arrival [video/action]

[skintoskin]

[A young man with dark hair, styled with heavy bangs, and intense blue eyes frowns at the screen. He has a slender build and is wearing a black T-shirt that has the seams showing, so it's probably inside-out. He was too distracted to notice when he tried to wring it out then pulled it over his head just a few moments before dealing with his new location. The T-shirt appears to be soaking wet, as does his hair and skin. Looking from left to right, he then regards the device warily. There are traces of injury on both sides of his face, wounds that have been cleaned, but are bruising. There are no bandages. Around his neck is a black cord with a round, silver dog tag on it. When he speaks, anyone from the Midwestern part of the United States might recognize his accent. His voice is uncertain. There is the sound of burbling water in the background - a fountain.]

Hello?

[Pause. He rolls his eyes and reaches for some bravado.]

Hell - lo? Anybody home?

[Pause. He looks left and right again before continuing.]

Shit.

I... asked for a phone and some girl in a bath robe gave me this thing.

[The image of the young man shifts in and out and upside-down as he makes it clear by shaking the device that 'this thing' is currently in his hand. Then the device mercifully remains still. Anyone dizzy?]

This isn't a phone. This is something out of a fucking... science fiction show.

[Pause.]

If there's anybody out there, can they tell me where the fuck I am and why the fuck I'm here? I'd really appreciate it...

[He is shaking by the time he's finished speaking, a touch of sarcasm tinging his barely contained fear. He manages a tight smile, but he isn't in control of anything right now, and it scares the shit out of him.]

Comments

[archivy]

Upon my mother's death, the Archive was passed on to me. Magic.

[skintoskin]

So, your mother was an archive?

[archivy]

My mother was host to the Archive, as am I.

[skintoskin]

Annnnnnnnnnd... does that mean your grandmother was, too?

[archivy]

Yes. As her mother before her. The Archive is handed down from generation to generation, mother to daughter.

[skintoskin]

Is there only one of you?

[archivy]

Yes.

[skintoskin]

In the whole world?

[archivy]

Yes. And most other worlds that I have learnt of here. Why do you ask?

[skintoskin]

If you have all the stuff about Humanity inside you, that's a shit-load of information. How do you keep it all together?

[archivy]

The human brain has vast capacities for storing information. Magic plays a part as well.

[skintoskin]

Uh-huh... That's... good. Weird, but good...

[archivy]

It is as it is. Neither good nor bad.

[skintoskin]

Okay. I'm kinda... outta my depth here, Ivy...

[archivy]

Concerning me? Most people are.

[skintoskin]

Oh.


Are you... happy?

[archivy]

[ Happy? No. ]

I have everything that I require.

[skintoskin]

That doesn't answer my question, but that's okay.

[archivy]

I know. [ That it doesn't answer the question. Which, in a way, is answer enough, isn't it? ]

[skintoskin]

[Yes, that does answer the question without directly doing so and Neil recognizes that.]

Anything I can do?

[Not that he knows how he would help an eleven-year-old girl who is some sort of massive, walking library, or why he's offering to even try. maybe because he understands loneliness.]

[archivy]

No. [ long pause. ] There is nothing to be done.

[skintoskin]

Oh.

[That sucks...]

If you think of anything, let me know?

[archivy]

If I do, I will.

[skintoskin]

Good.

[archivy]

It is unlikely to happen, though.