OOC: This post is an in-character inbox for anyone wishing to contact the character, Araidne, for deercountry. To contact the mun, please PM this journal or send a private plurk to wizera.
The strange way he was walking didn't escape Ariadne's attention. But she knew that some people had a rougher arrival to Trench than others. Maul had been covered in lacerations and barely coherent. So she supposed it might just be some kind of limp. And she let it go.
"As long as there are trees, I'm always at home," she said. Which was partly true. And easier to say than expressing how difficult it was to reconcile the sense of permanence she was feeling in Trench, compared to Deerington. It was both a relief and...not. A guilt she was wearing on her shoulders.
But one that didn't alter her feather-light gait.
She trotted over to Sam, giving him a quick, one-armed hug. She was careful not to touch his legs, in case it might exacerbate his limp. "It's good to see you, Sam."
"Good to see you, too," he answered and returned the hug. It was brief but that was fine. He was never a touchy person and, to be honest, most of his physical contact with women was unwanted or ended horribly.
He didn't seem too bothered by that now. Maybe New Sam could move on from all that business.
"I hope I didn't stress you out earlier," Sam says as the hug ends and they break back.
"That wasn't my intention. That guy just rubs me the wrong way."
"I'm not sure he would ever have occasion to rub you," she said, figuring even as she said it that it was clearly an expression. She'd already made a fool of herself several times over with Sam alone, so she decided to push past it as quickly as possible. "Don't worry about him."
Smooth recovery.
Which probably explained why she was very, very quick to hold up the basket, bumping it lightly against his chest. "I've started putting together an assortment for you. Varian and Fern seem to think that there's something special about the soil around the trees that's making them a little bit stronger than the native ones, but we haven't figured out what it is yet."
And 'we' was being generous. Ariadne knew when soil was good or bad. But for the life of her, she had no means to determine why.
"The fruit tastes normal, though. I don't think there's anything unusual about it."
Very smooth. And moved over so fast he didn't have a chance to react.
Sam took the basket and looked at the fruit for a moment, noting their color and textures. They looked normal enough to him but the thing about the soil was interesting and tied into a few theories he'd already started to form about the transition from Deerington to Trench.
"Maybe it's not the ground that's making them strong."
"What do you think it could be?" she asked, tilting her head to one angle like a bird that had spotted something glistening. "Some sort of lingering connection to Deerington?" There was no denying they were the same trees. Every knob and knot was exactly as she remembered them. And they had the same scent of wood and chlorophyll and ozone.
She walked over to her nectarine tree--she called it "Jane"--and touched the bark, as if she could somehow absorb the answer through her fingertips.
"I never entirely understood why we'd sometimes receive gifts in Deerington. Someone told me it was probably Julia's doing. But she's gone, isn't she?" A fact that Ariadne lamented. It felt wrong to sacrifice her. Ariadne had strongly been opposed, but then...no one listened to her much.
"Yeah," Sam replied to both questions at the same time and followed towards the tree by a few steps.
"I mean, it's weird, right? That some things from Deerington followed us here? That was a dream and this isn't as far as we know, but things from there keep showing up. Our cabin appeared, my brother's car and horse. Your trees are living things and they're real now."
Which, okay, saying it aloud sounded more stupid than he intended but it made his point either way. Things that were created in a dream- whilst real to them- were actually real here.
"That doesn't sound like agriculture to me, that sounds like magic. And by all accounts there isn't much farming going on around this place."
Ariadne felt a little offended on the trees' behalf. To suggest they weren't real! But she understood what Sam meant. Even still, she patted Jane's trunk, as if to comfort her. It was all right. She was as real as she wanted to be. As real as she felt.
"A community can't survive without agriculture," she said quietly, a little line forming between her eyes. "Not with this many people."
Actually, she still wasn't sure how many people there were in Trench. It was so hard to keep track of people, given the way the streets were arranged and how the homes had so little in the way of markings.
Certainly enough for Sam to have questions about how people sustained themselves.
He gave the tree a look, briefly wondering if it, sorry she, could hear or understand him. Honestly, if the answer was yes he wouldn't have been all that surprised. Weirded out, sure, but given everything that was happening why not. Yolo.
"No, they can't. Which is weird, too, so how are they doing it? And, get this, the city is called Trench right, but the rest of this.. place? This world? It's called Deer Country. That can't be a coincidence. But what's the connection between here and Deerington besides the presence of Pthumerians?"
She shook her head. Although she'd very much enjoyed what little schooling she'd gotten, scholarship had never exactly been Ariadne's area of expertise. She could count the stars and wish for wings, but that wasn't the same as understanding the night sky.
Fortunately, Sam was a lot smarter than she was. "If anyone can figure it out," she said, bolstered by confidence, "it'll be you. And maybe that nice librarian lady."
Ariadne didn't know Evelyn well. But they'd been stuck in a house together. That had a way of making you believe in someone.
She leaned against the trunk of the nectarine tree. "Have you...seen any actual deer?"
Evelyn wasn't a bad suggestion, actually. She was incredibly clever, had access to most written records...somehow, and could be a real tiger when presented with a mystery.
A real tiger in general, including between the sheets, but that was neither here nor there.
Sam made a mental note to check in with Evie later and shook his head no to the question.
"Not yet, but I'm betting they're around."
It gave him an idea, though.
"Makes you wonder if Julia was here all along. She was half Pthumerian. Maybe this was her home world, or at least her mother's."
"It's possible," she said. "But then again, I like to think that practically anything is possible."
It was Michael who'd pointed out to her that the magic of her orchard derived from Julia. And he'd had an almost haunted expression at the possibility that she was somehow still around. Vaguely, Ariadne wondered if it was awe or guilt. Or some combination of the two. It was always harder to judge someone's reactions on a little screen. She much preferred what was right in front of her, what she could see and touch and smell, as needed.
"I never liked the fact that everyone wanted to end her life," she said. "It just felt so...pointless, I guess. But we're survivors, Alastrians. And I like to believe that as long as you're alive, whatever sadness lives inside of you can somehow be healed. You can find a way to happiness."
Sam nodded a little bit, feigning sympathy. He knew he should feel for the girl but right now he just... didn't. He didn't feel anything, actually. At all. He was just compelled to try to carry on as he was before and that old Sam would have given a crap about Julia Sodder.
"Well. She was already dead. It would have been worse to keep her in limbo without peace, right? Where I come from that's how you get ghosts. The dangerous type who go on to kill people."
She ducked her head slightly. "I suppose." Truthfully, she didn't know much about ghosts, other than the kind that occasionally showed up in Deerington, and she was quite certain they were different from the kind that lurked in the sacred places back home in Valeria. "But I like to think that if we'd awakened her, she could have returned to some sort of life."
Call her optimistic.
"It may have all been for nothing, though." She gestured around, encompassing the whole of Trench and her trees, herself and Sam. "If she's here now, in one way or another." Ariadne shrugged. "Or maybe I'm just desperate to find some kind of meaning in all of this."
Sam was under the impression that Julia had been dead for quite some time but he didn't make a point to delve into it. Julia sodder was dead, end of story, and he didn't care either way.
But he considered Airy's words for a moment. Her plea for purpose. That, he understood just fine.
"Well. I guess all you can do is try to honor her memory by making the best of being here. This is our home now and I'm okay with that.. It's all thanks to her."
"Exactly!" She was so glad that he understood. A lot of other people gave her optimism a sideways look of scrutiny. But having someone see things her way was something of a relief. "We have to make the best of things. The alternative is just feeling useless and sad."
Two feelings that Ariadne absolutely abhorred.
"And we need time to take pleasure in the simple things." She patted Jane's trunk again. "Like fresh fruit. Or whisky. If you're Dean."
Sam snorted. He'd heard about that and figured Airy was probably scarred for life.
"Well, my brother is a simple man."
Was that a cheap shot? Yeah but who cares, it's funny.
"And it's pretty much a tool of the trade. Most hunters are high functioning alcoholics."
But skipping right on along without giving pause for her thoughts on the matter. It's something the old Sam would never had said aloud despite his own long standing concerns.
"Speaking of simple pleasures, did Dean ever show you how babies are made?"
The shift in topic didn't form a through-line in Ariadne's mind and she blinked in surprise, taking a second to catch up to him. "I have a working understanding of Human reproductive cycles," she said.
Some people were unusually prude about it. Ariadne had come to understand that certain matters were considered sacrosanct or private in humanoid society. And she did her best to obey whatever social mores were imposed.
But she figured she could be frank with Sam. He certainly didn't seem to be embarrassed, talking about it.
"I'm more curious about sex. Everyone seems to like it very much. And I realize that one can lead to the other, but not necessarily. And certainly not among Alastrians." Their males carried their young. And there weren't any male Alastrians left of childbearing age. At least, as far as she knew.
Ariadne gave him a puzzled look. Yes, most humanoids were terribly cagey and cryptic about sex. But she was fairly certain that it had...meaning. There were certain requirements involved. Compatibility. Attraction.
Trust.
"That's...not the way I've heard it," she admitted. "From the way courtiers talk, it has some substantial consequences. It usually means a lot."
Ariadne had a great deal of opinions about the word 'modern' and how utterly meaningless it was, both in the multiverse, and back home. It was one of those words like 'unique' or 'interesting.' One that language had somehow failed to weed out, over centuries of evolution.
She shook her head slightly, smiling in spite of the silliness. "And how do you and Miss Evelyn see it?" she asked.
He was being chatty. She supposed she could get away with asking such a personal question.
Oh.. wow yeah.. Evelyn. Of course she would have known about that, they were all staying together at the end.
Sam bit his top lip for a moment before shrugging again. Old Sam would have some concerns about this situation. Current Sam does not. He's not even entirely sure Evelyn is here.
"Just fun. She was great but she went home when the dream ended."
And that pricked something inside of Ariadne's mind. The last time she'd seen Dean, he'd casually made a few mentions of Evelyn. As Sam's girlfriend. In the present tense. In the town of Trench itself. And she was quite certain he'd been referring to this Sam, not the one that was stuck as a child. The one who'd saved her from the dinosaur.
Something was...wrong.
But what kind of wrong? Ariadne wasn't sure. It could be a trick, like the sort Deerington used to play on them. Or something with Sam himself. Either he genuinely didn't know that Evelyn was here. Or else he was lying. And Ariadne wasn't sure which it was, since she hadn't been listening to his pulse.
Regardless, she was pretty sure that the word 'girlfriend' implied more than 'just fun.' But she would have to confirm that.
Absently, she twisted the tip of her braid around her finger. "You must miss her," she said, this time paying more attention to the beating of his heart.
One hundred and fifteen beats a minute. An ideal resting heart rate for a man his age in excellent condition. Not a trace of sudden jump, deception or regret. He wasn't lying.
Or if he were, he would have to care so little that it wouldn't affect him in any way.
Ariadne was right, of course, there was Something Wrong With Sam, but what proof was there, he was approaching her romantically? Was that so far fetched?
He nodded again to the question. Well, more of a statement.
"I do. But I think she'll be happier where she came from. So it's for the best."
Not lying. Well, that was something of a relief. But he hadn't sought Evelyn out? Something about that felt wrong. It felt so very unlike the Sam she'd come to know. He was a paladin, after all. Him and the other Winchesters. They were constantly falling over backwards for the people they cared about.
And she didn't believe for a second that Evelyn was hiding from Sam.
Who would hide from that face?
"Sam, I..." She shrugged. "Sam, I'm not so sure she's gone."
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The strange way he was walking didn't escape Ariadne's attention. But she knew that some people had a rougher arrival to Trench than others. Maul had been covered in lacerations and barely coherent. So she supposed it might just be some kind of limp. And she let it go.
"As long as there are trees, I'm always at home," she said. Which was partly true. And easier to say than expressing how difficult it was to reconcile the sense of permanence she was feeling in Trench, compared to Deerington. It was both a relief and...not. A guilt she was wearing on her shoulders.
But one that didn't alter her feather-light gait.
She trotted over to Sam, giving him a quick, one-armed hug. She was careful not to touch his legs, in case it might exacerbate his limp. "It's good to see you, Sam."
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He didn't seem too bothered by that now. Maybe New Sam could move on from all that business.
"I hope I didn't stress you out earlier," Sam says as the hug ends and they break back.
"That wasn't my intention. That guy just rubs me the wrong way."
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Smooth recovery.
Which probably explained why she was very, very quick to hold up the basket, bumping it lightly against his chest. "I've started putting together an assortment for you. Varian and Fern seem to think that there's something special about the soil around the trees that's making them a little bit stronger than the native ones, but we haven't figured out what it is yet."
And 'we' was being generous. Ariadne knew when soil was good or bad. But for the life of her, she had no means to determine why.
"The fruit tastes normal, though. I don't think there's anything unusual about it."
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Sam took the basket and looked at the fruit for a moment, noting their color and textures. They looked normal enough to him but the thing about the soil was interesting and tied into a few theories he'd already started to form about the transition from Deerington to Trench.
"Maybe it's not the ground that's making them strong."
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She walked over to her nectarine tree--she called it "Jane"--and touched the bark, as if she could somehow absorb the answer through her fingertips.
"I never entirely understood why we'd sometimes receive gifts in Deerington. Someone told me it was probably Julia's doing. But she's gone, isn't she?" A fact that Ariadne lamented. It felt wrong to sacrifice her. Ariadne had strongly been opposed, but then...no one listened to her much.
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"I mean, it's weird, right? That some things from Deerington followed us here? That was a dream and this isn't as far as we know, but things from there keep showing up. Our cabin appeared, my brother's car and horse. Your trees are living things and they're real now."
Which, okay, saying it aloud sounded more stupid than he intended but it made his point either way. Things that were created in a dream- whilst real to them- were actually real here.
"That doesn't sound like agriculture to me, that sounds like magic. And by all accounts there isn't much farming going on around this place."
Just in Feed and even then it sounded kinda dire.
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"A community can't survive without agriculture," she said quietly, a little line forming between her eyes. "Not with this many people."
Actually, she still wasn't sure how many people there were in Trench. It was so hard to keep track of people, given the way the streets were arranged and how the homes had so little in the way of markings.
Still. It was a lot.
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He gave the tree a look, briefly wondering if it, sorry she, could hear or understand him. Honestly, if the answer was yes he wouldn't have been all that surprised. Weirded out, sure, but given everything that was happening why not. Yolo.
"No, they can't. Which is weird, too, so how are they doing it? And, get this, the city is called Trench right, but the rest of this.. place? This world? It's called Deer Country. That can't be a coincidence. But what's the connection between here and Deerington besides the presence of Pthumerians?"
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Fortunately, Sam was a lot smarter than she was. "If anyone can figure it out," she said, bolstered by confidence, "it'll be you. And maybe that nice librarian lady."
Ariadne didn't know Evelyn well. But they'd been stuck in a house together. That had a way of making you believe in someone.
She leaned against the trunk of the nectarine tree. "Have you...seen any actual deer?"
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A real tiger in general, including between the sheets, but that was neither here nor there.
Sam made a mental note to check in with Evie later and shook his head no to the question.
"Not yet, but I'm betting they're around."
It gave him an idea, though.
"Makes you wonder if Julia was here all along. She was half Pthumerian. Maybe this was her home world, or at least her mother's."
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It was Michael who'd pointed out to her that the magic of her orchard derived from Julia. And he'd had an almost haunted expression at the possibility that she was somehow still around. Vaguely, Ariadne wondered if it was awe or guilt. Or some combination of the two. It was always harder to judge someone's reactions on a little screen. She much preferred what was right in front of her, what she could see and touch and smell, as needed.
"I never liked the fact that everyone wanted to end her life," she said. "It just felt so...pointless, I guess. But we're survivors, Alastrians. And I like to believe that as long as you're alive, whatever sadness lives inside of you can somehow be healed. You can find a way to happiness."
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"Well. She was already dead. It would have been worse to keep her in limbo without peace, right? Where I come from that's how you get ghosts. The dangerous type who go on to kill people."
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Call her optimistic.
"It may have all been for nothing, though." She gestured around, encompassing the whole of Trench and her trees, herself and Sam. "If she's here now, in one way or another." Ariadne shrugged. "Or maybe I'm just desperate to find some kind of meaning in all of this."
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But he considered Airy's words for a moment. Her plea for purpose. That, he understood just fine.
"Well. I guess all you can do is try to honor her memory by making the best of being here. This is our home now and I'm okay with that.. It's all thanks to her."
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Two feelings that Ariadne absolutely abhorred.
"And we need time to take pleasure in the simple things." She patted Jane's trunk again. "Like fresh fruit. Or whisky. If you're Dean."
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"Well, my brother is a simple man."
Was that a cheap shot? Yeah but who cares, it's funny.
"And it's pretty much a tool of the trade. Most hunters are high functioning alcoholics."
But skipping right on along without giving pause for her thoughts on the matter. It's something the old Sam would never had said aloud despite his own long standing concerns.
"Speaking of simple pleasures, did Dean ever show you how babies are made?"
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Some people were unusually prude about it. Ariadne had come to understand that certain matters were considered sacrosanct or private in humanoid society. And she did her best to obey whatever social mores were imposed.
But she figured she could be frank with Sam. He certainly didn't seem to be embarrassed, talking about it.
"I'm more curious about sex. Everyone seems to like it very much. And I realize that one can lead to the other, but not necessarily. And certainly not among Alastrians." Their males carried their young. And there weren't any male Alastrians left of childbearing age. At least, as far as she knew.
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"I think it's fun. Good for your body, good for your mind. Doesn't have to mean anything it's just..fun."
As if he didn't come out here with the sole purpose of having this exact conversation. As if this wasn't premeditated in the slightest.
"There's only one way for you to find out," Sam said, his tone more suggestion that fact.
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Ariadne gave him a puzzled look. Yes, most humanoids were terribly cagey and cryptic about sex. But she was fairly certain that it had...meaning. There were certain requirements involved. Compatibility. Attraction.
Trust.
"That's...not the way I've heard it," she admitted. "From the way courtiers talk, it has some substantial consequences. It usually means a lot."
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"Don't get me wrong, it can mean things. It can mean a lot, but you have the option to decide that for yourself."
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She shook her head slightly, smiling in spite of the silliness. "And how do you and Miss Evelyn see it?" she asked.
He was being chatty. She supposed she could get away with asking such a personal question.
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Sam bit his top lip for a moment before shrugging again. Old Sam would have some concerns about this situation. Current Sam does not. He's not even entirely sure Evelyn is here.
"Just fun. She was great but she went home when the dream ended."
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Something was...wrong.
But what kind of wrong? Ariadne wasn't sure. It could be a trick, like the sort Deerington used to play on them. Or something with Sam himself. Either he genuinely didn't know that Evelyn was here. Or else he was lying. And Ariadne wasn't sure which it was, since she hadn't been listening to his pulse.
Regardless, she was pretty sure that the word 'girlfriend' implied more than 'just fun.' But she would have to confirm that.
Absently, she twisted the tip of her braid around her finger. "You must miss her," she said, this time paying more attention to the beating of his heart.
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Or if he were, he would have to care so little that it wouldn't affect him in any way.
Ariadne was right, of course, there was Something Wrong With Sam, but what proof was there, he was approaching her romantically? Was that so far fetched?
He nodded again to the question. Well, more of a statement.
"I do. But I think she'll be happier where she came from. So it's for the best."
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And she didn't believe for a second that Evelyn was hiding from Sam.
Who would hide from that face?
"Sam, I..." She shrugged. "Sam, I'm not so sure she's gone."
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