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Briseis [The Iliad] (notaspoil) wrote in expresslogs,
@ 2012-09-23 17:58:00

Entry tags:

!dice, !plot, briseis, {abed nadir

WHO: Briseis and Abed Nadir (!dice)
WHAT: Floating...
WHERE: The Observation Car
WHEN: Sunday Evening
WARNINGS: None likely, will update if necessary
STATUS: Closed/Ongoing

Well, at least Achilles' knife came in handy. She had been rather disgusted to see that it had shown up here with her, even though she had been cleaning it just before she arrived here. The blood and other fluids that were staining the blade had to come off, and the knife itself polished before it was to be used as a prize in his funeral games. And it was disgusting. But...

Now she had a sharp, polished blade, made by Hephaestus himself, and it was coming in quite handy at finding the small little notches in the metal - in the door frames, mostly - where it could find a grip and allow her to pull herself along that much further. And it's metal, forged in the Olympian's forges, wasn't about to break at the pressure of her rather insignificant weight. So maybe that kidnapping, murdering bastard was good for something, after all.

She'd managed to make her way from her room to the observation car with a slow but steady pace, and had stabbed the knife through her jeans (that were far too big, and therefore had a good deal of spare fabric through the legs) and into the sofa. And...for the most part, she was staying put. She couldn't stay here forever, she knew, because eventually the knife would cut all the way through the fabric, but for now, at least, she could take a rest.

But still, as much as she wished she could put her feet down and walk on solid ground, she was quite content to be here on the train. Floating was better than being passed around to men as a prize of war, respected little more than a horse (if as much). Here, at least, her autonomy was respected.

She gazed outside, and a triumphant sort of smile crossed her lips. She had prayed to the gods so many times for freedom from that torture - and now, it seemed, they had finally listened.

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notaspoil
2012-09-24 01:41 am UTC (link)

She lowered the knife slightly at his reaction, which was far from threatening. The expression in her eyes softened slightly, but she still looked at him with confusion. She didn't understand what he was saying, although at one point it appeared that he was introducing himself?

She held a hand to her chest, in case that was the case.

"Briseis," she said softly. Although the anger and threats were mostly gone, she still watched his movements very closely. She didn't think he was going to try to hurt her, but she wasn't about to take a chance.

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triplecool
2012-09-24 02:02 am UTC (link)

She was lowering the knife, just a little. This, Abed assumed, was a good sign, or at least an indication that she wasn’t going to attempt to fatally wound him in the next few seconds.

And it seemed like she’d understand at least one word of what he’d said. Abed lowered his hands back to his side, letting them dangle in the air as he floated. “Briseis,” he repeated - or, rather, tried to repeat. He mouthed the name a couple of times, trying to get the pronunciation down. "Cool name. Hey, Briseis.” He wasn’t sure, but he thought that he’d gotten it on the last try.

“This should be interesting,” he mused - mostly to himself; there was no way she'd be able to understand him. “The language barrier trope. There’s probably a term for it. Two people trying to make sense of a situation, unable to understand each other’s speech, usually resulting in hilarity. Miming might be difficult under these conditions.”

He gave her a giant smile, which was likely more creepy than it was comforting.

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notaspoil
2012-09-24 02:15 am UTC (link)

No, she didn't get a word he said, although she knew well enough what it sounded like when a man was rambling about something. Typical. Few men could get enough of their own voices.

Blah, blah, blah, listen to me and how special I am, blah, blah, blah.

She grinned slightly, amused that even after...how long had Luke said it had been...nearly three thousand years? Men still hadn't changed. That was comforting in a way, if a bit pathetic.

"I don't understand a word you're saying, Abed," she said with a shrug. "Although if you're like most men, I'm not missing much."

She didn't hate all men - no, not at all. She knew that there were good men in the world - Luke, she thought, was one - although she'd sure met a lot of terrible ones, too.

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triplecool
2012-09-24 02:37 am UTC (link)

He seemed to be amusing her, which was better than frightening her into stabbing him. Abed was really very against the idea of being stabbed. The car had felt tense ever since he’d seen the knife, but it seemed to be relaxing a little.

“Yeah, I’m not getting any of that,” Abed replied. His tone was cheerful, though. “This is where subtitles would come in handy. Or an interpreter of some kind.”

He was running out of the usual social niceties, and she didn’t even understand what he was saying. “I wish Jeff were here,” he said absently. “Or Troy. They’re better at knowing what to say. I’m not so good at that. Then again, I could start talking in gibberish and you wouldn’t know the difference. Watermelon.”

He pointed at the ground. “Do you know how to get back down there? Probably not, seeing as you’re still floating, but hey, it’s worth a shot.”

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notaspoil
2012-09-24 02:58 am UTC (link)

She didn't get a word he said - except when he said the word Troy. At that, her eyes went wide.

"Troy? Are you from Troy? I have spent weeks outside Ilion's walls, in the Greek Encampment."

Ah, he didn't understand her, either. So obviously, he was not from Troy.

Pointing at the ground, though - that was something she could understand. And it was not so hard to get down, really. It just took a little thought. Letting herself float all the way to the top, she pressed her hands against the ceiling and then pushed against it, hard. It propelled her far enough that she was able to grab the sofa, and with the knife, stake herself to it again. She then smiled up at him with a triumphant smile.

Wasn't so hard, really.

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triplecool
2012-09-24 03:32 am UTC (link)

Abed’s brows furrowed in confusion. He highly doubted that Briseis knew Troy Barnes. Troy would have told him if he met someone who spoke in a weird-sounding language, and besides, the passengers on this train came from multiple realities. Briseis could have come from a reality where Troy didn’t even exist. That was a sad thought.

“Troy,” he said again anyway, because it was the one word they had in common and he had to say something. He thought for a moment and tried to come up with simple words. “Friend,” Abed said at last. “Best friend.”

Another sad thought, because at his point of departure, Abed and Troy weren’t best friends. They’d yet to be reunited by the Imaginary Friendship Hats. Abed frowned at the floor for awhile.

And then she was staked to the sofa again, and smiling at him. Abed snapped himself out of his temporary melancholy and copied her movements, pushing hard against the ceiling. He didn’t have a knife, so he grabbed on as tightly to the arm of the sofa as he could. He was still floating, but at least he was anchored now. “Progress. Cool,” he said. “Coolcoolcool.”

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notaspoil
2012-09-24 04:49 pm UTC (link)

He repeated the name of the place again. It obviously meant something to him, but she couldn't understand the other words he spoke. Jibberish, except for that word. She already wished that she spoke more of that strange sounding language, but a few lessons could only get her so far.

She pointed to the knife, though, then looked up at him.

"It belonged to Achilles. When he fought at Troy."

Cocking an eyebrow, she looked at him, hoping he could understand what she was trying to say, but not having a lot of hope. He probably didn't even know who Achilles is. If what Luke said was true, her world had ended thousands of years ago. Luke himself probably only knew of Achilles because of the fact that he himself was a demigod.

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triplecool
2012-09-25 07:12 pm UTC (link)

Abed leaned his head on the arm of the sofa, the rest of his body continuing to float. From the incomprehensible language coming from her mouth, the only thing he picked up on was “Troy”. It was obvious that his Troy wasn’t her Troy, but she said it with importance. “Achilles”, too. She said it as if he should know what these things were. Did he know what these things were? If he did, the knowledge was currently escaping him.

Whatever it was, it had something to do with the knife, which Abed regarded with some suspicion. She seemed calm now, but he had no clue what might inspire her to break that calm, go berserk, and slaughter him.

Clinging to the sofa with one hand, he used the other to point at the knife. He made a violent stabbing motion in the air, which was hard to do in this environment and almost made him loose his grip on the chair, and then shook his head emphatically.

“I don’t like this trope,” he said finally, hoping the Please don’t kill me message had gotten across.

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notaspoil
2012-09-26 03:41 pm UTC (link)

For a moment, she worried her lip, looking at him in annoyance. To be fair, it wasn't him that annoyed her, but this situation. Not being able to communicate with him, no matter what she tried.

His violent stabbing motion made her eyes go wide with concern. What was that supposed to mean? Was he threatening her??

Suddenly, she had an idea, and pulled handheld device out of the pocket she had shoved it into. She typed a few sentences, then ran them through the translator, before offering it to him.

My name is Briseis. I am from the city-state of Lyrnessus, but I come here from the Greek Encampment outside the walls of Troy. I'm not going to hurt you.

She grinned a little at the last line. He looked so scared, she couldn't help it.

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triplecool
2012-09-26 09:47 pm UTC (link)

So simple, so elegant, so obvious. Abed nodded his approval as he took the device, his eyes widening slightly as he read it. Greek Encampment outside the walls of Troy. That explained the Troy confusion, but more importantly, if he was reading this right, Briseis was old. Troy was an ancient city, ruins. This was even neater than he’d originally thought.

He typed his response with one thumb, transmitting from English into what he was assuming was Ancient Greek.

I’m Abed. I’m from Colorado. My Troy’s a person. Thanks for not stabbing me.

Hethought for a moment

This is a really clever way of subverting the language barrier story-device. Kudos.

Abed held out the device for her to take.

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notaspoil
2012-09-26 10:00 pm UTC (link)

She couldn't help but laugh when he she read his response. He was afraid of her stabbing him?

She began typing into the device, shaking her head as she did.

Do I look like the type who would stab you? You could easily overpower me, I'm quite sure. The knife belonged to Achilles, who had taken me captive and brought me there as his...woman.

She wasn't going to go into detail on that. She didn't want to think about it. She was here now, and that life was over.

It was forged on Olympus by Hephaestus himself.

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triplecool
2012-09-27 01:50 am UTC (link)

Abed smiled, but only slightly. In the company of strangers, he often had trouble telling whether people were laughing with him or at him. It was usually a safe bet to just smile.

Reading her response, he finally started to feel relaxed, and his smile widened a bit as he started typing back.

You never know. You look like a classic princess, but you could be a Badass Damsel. Besides, I’m really pretty weak. And I never doubt the power of a woman with a knife.

Achilles, Olympus, Hephaestus... Foreign words, words that kind of rang a bell in Abed’s head, but not quite. It sounds like a story, he typed. Like a really old story. But hey, good for you for stealing the guy’s knife. Sounds like a Badass Damsel to me.

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notaspoil
2012-09-27 04:53 pm UTC (link)

Her smile warmed a little at his words.

It was more of an accident, really. I don't want anything of his. Although I suppose I could use it well enough if I really needed to. But I don't think you're going to make me do that, are you?

She raised an eyebrow, handed it to him, and tried to look slightly threatening with those words, although she failed miserably, in her own mind.

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triplecool
2012-09-27 07:20 pm UTC (link)

It wasn’t really possible for Abed to look warm. He didn’t have a wide variety of facial expressions, and didn’t spend time figuring out how to use them. All the same, the fear of death was completely gone now.

He thought for a moment. There are various scenarios that might make you use the knife, many of them having to do with me becoming a zombie, but they’re all statistically unlikely.

Try to imagine I’m saying this in a really serious and solemn voice, he typed. Not that vocal inflections were Abed’s expertise either. Never turn down a knife. Or any weapon. You’ll end up needing it later, and you’ll have to improvise with a rolling pin or something, and that never goes well.

His face completely blank, Abed handed the phone back.

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notaspoil
2012-09-28 01:28 pm UTC (link)

Briseis raised an eyebrow curiously - at both his blank expression and at his words. He was a strange young man, that was undeniable, but she was no longer afraid that he was particularly dangerous. In fact, he seemed rather...well...pathetic. Not in a particularly bad way. Just...she wasn't the kind of man that she was familiar with. But that...that was certainly a good thing.

She took the device and typed back.

Is you turning into a zombie a...real possibility? Because if so, I should stab you now, right?

She refused to smile, looking at him with a very intensely concerned expression, as if this was something she was pondering seriously.

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triplecool
2012-09-29 03:19 am UTC (link)

She had come into this situation brandishing a knife, and now she was holding her own in a match of “who can wear a blank face the longest?” And Abed was really good at that game. She seemed nice, he decided. Definitely a person he could tolerate. Even with the language barrier issue.

He started typing.

I’d say a probably of about 2.7%. I don’t think there have been any zombie outbreaks, but I was in a really epic pillow fight not that long ago, and it’s possible someone bit me. I usually don’t stab people unless the probability is higher than 40%.

He lifted one eyebrow. But you can’t be too careful. If you chose to stab me, I wouldn’t hold it against you.

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notaspoil
2012-09-29 06:38 am UTC (link)

See, the problem is, she typed, her brows set in concern and worry. That 2.7%, though a small amount, is still infinitely more than zero. And if you think of it, that means that 27 in 1000, or 270 in 10000 people will be zombies. And that's a scary thought. And the only way to turn that to zero is to kill you. And I'm sure you'll agree that zero percent chance is the safest way to be.

She handed the device to him, looking at him very seriously. This young man was very strange, yes, but he was neither threatening nor unpleasant, both of which were very much in his favor.

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