in_crisis (in_crisis) wrote in reality_crisis, @ 2013-12-04 20:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | !status: complete, belia ohorek |
The Arrival (Narrative)
The trip from die Festung and the neighboring cities to the new colony was not uneventful. In spite of what some might think of Belia, she regretted the loss of those whose vehicle had driven through yet another crack in reality. Even Eric Northman. Perhaps especially Eric because she could respect that he'd been able to bring some order to the vampires in this world. And order was a thing that was gravely needed for their people to survive. She had a feeling that she could nudge some, like the Winchesters, to take care of the vampire population if they got out of hand. And yet... and yet, there were those who believed that there were a reason all of the imports were here. What Belia herself believed mattered less than allowing the sense of hope that having the Chosen around brought to them.
Jackson and his group took their leave almost as soon as the remainder of the caravan made it inside the small area that they would now claim as their own. It had once been a suburb, though the name had long since passed from her memory. It was unimportant and she had more than enough names of people who had surrendered to the slow, agonizing death of the world as she knew it. The name of this place was inconsequential. They would choose a new name. Perhaps they would choose two names and carve it up, divide it down the middle so that Erik Lehnsherr could have the space he desired for his people. It didn't please her, but if that's what was needed to keep the peace then she would make that concession.
There were more dead zones in this area. The place wasn't surrounded by them because of course that would make it impossible for many of the Chosen to join them here. But there were a few on the outskirts and they would hopefully keep reality from tearing itself open here.
She addressed people once they were inside the area. A wall would need to be built, but for now they would just have to take turns keeping watch by night and building during the day. There were houses to be divvied up and not quite enough for everyone to have their own. They would need to share. Many of the houses had three or four bedrooms so people should be able to fit quite comfortably within them. The lawns were near jungles of growth in some places and yet in others, the grass was brown and long dead and forgotten. The houses themselves had once been moderate sized homes for those who might have had families and lives here and yet now they stood in various states of disrepair. Paint peeling, roofs in need of patching, windows broken. It was all fixable with enough time. They would prioritize what was needed and work together on it. With any luck, they would be here long enough to turn this place into a new home. As much as anywhere could be home in this hollowed out shell of a world.
Belia didn't sleep that first night. She wasn't taking watch, but she merely did what she could to direct her people on where things should go, where they could sleep, who should take watch, and so on. She allowed space for Erik to do the same for his people. They would have to meet again soon to draw up agreements for occupying the same space. Yet for now, they all had to work together to make this place as safe as they could.