Not Until We Are Lost

They were on another new planet. Sam didn't think that he was ever going to get used to being moved around like this. He was no stranger to changing scenery, but it had always been of his own volition. And he'd always had a chance to know at least some of what they were getting themselves into ahead of time. As for having his clothes changed while unconscious? He really wasn't a fan of that. It was a little sad that that was he least of his worries, but it was still there in the back of his mind.

He supposed that he should be thankful that a least he had a place to sleep this time around. He didn't trust anything given to them by their captors, but he also had to appreciate being able to concentrate on other things aside form needing to seek out shelter. Once he stepped outside the cabin, he took in his surroundings. The wall was a pretty big focal point, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at it. Particularly once he got closer and heard the hum of electricity. A wall like this was either meant to keep something out or meant to keep something in. Neither option seemed particularly reassuring.

He received a few polite, but not overly friendly, nods from some of the population here. And if it was a little unnerving to see lizard-like people, Sam hoped that he was able to keep the surprise off his face. For now, he was simply grateful that they didn't seem to be outright hostile. That was a good thing, right?

Destiny woke up in a soft bed, with white sheets.

She wasn't against white sheets. Some of the best beds she'd ever been in had those. But they were never her bed, which meant this wasn't, and that was really disappointing. She sighed into the pillow, then sat up very abruptly.

Wait.

She'd been in the fucking old west. There were tumbleweeds. And Sam had a cowboy hat, and she had her little fortune telling stand...

She ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed her eyes. Where the fuck was this? The room was nice, if sparse, and there was another one, seemed like. Everything was more modern. And her favorite tarot deck was on the table next to the bed, along with a lot of her jewelry. Destiny realized she was dressed in some of her favorite stuff, too--she had on short pink shorts, a tank top, and a flowered, flowing robe of the kind she would wear at home.

She stood up and checked the closet. Her boots were there, and some other wardrobe choices that she hadn't seen since Hemlock Grove.

Sufficiently weirded out, and sure this was another 'planet,' Destiny grabbed the tarot deck and began to do a reading.

She had her specific question in mind, but as she laid the cards down, they told her something else. They were telling her that a man (male, based on the card, formerly of high rank) was in a dangerous position. The related cards showed her it was potentially mortal danger.

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit," she said to herself, with feeling. She shoved boots on her feet and ran out of the cabin, not even looking at the other room (which was stocked with a few things she could use for potions and other divination purposes). Outside was tropical paradise, but that fence...

... that fence....

She stopped at the center of what seemed to be a neighborhood of cabins and looked around for whoever it was doing something incredibly stupid.

Phaedra shifted and stretched.

She was very, very comfortable. With eyes still closed, she couldn't quite place why. There was light behind her eyelids, but maybe she had forgotten to snuff out the lamp next to her bed. It was that warm glow.

She felt cool sheets, and before opening her eyes, she knew the planet had changed. Her bed in the abandoned house wasn't that great. This mattress had springs, and support. And the sheets were cleaner than they'd ever get with a washboard, soap and a river. She moved and her foot touched warm flesh.

Phaedra sat upright, fast. If her heart could race, it would be racing.

Peter was asleep next to her. Peter was asleep next to her. Her mind raced. He should be dead, he should be at least seriously injured, crushed, bleeding. She looked at him, lying there, trying to parse why he was able to lie there in that sunbeam--

Sunbeam.

Phaedra got off of the bed as quickly as she could, not at all taking care not to wake Peter, and started closing the blinds. She was too panicked to pay much attention to the fact that the sun wasn't hurting her, wasn't singing her, that it was morning, true morning...

Until she got to the last window.

Then she opened the shades, and the window itself, and stood there in the black tank top and underwear. Her black pants were at the foot of the bed, and her boots were, too. This was more clothing than Phaedra ever slept in, but that didn't matter.

It didn't matter what was in the closet, though she would bet her clothing was--the corset, the coat, the skin-tight stuff that she was so comfortable in.

Just under the window, there were tropical flowers reaching for the sun, and something that looked like a hummingbird.

She couldn't talk. Or move. She had to be wary of this, but... Phaedra could not stop smiling.