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pinkandyellow (pinkandyellow) wrote in silverage,

“I was. Yeah. But I'm not sure this was where I was meant to go when it happened.” She was getting off track though. Having had time to think about it, Rose had an idea of where she was supposed to have ended up. The knowledge that the events of Satellite Five had been, or maybe would be, so close in her future was not a pleasant thought. So she swallowed and moved on. “It's just . . . common, like I said. Pulled. Crash landed. Took a wrong turn.” Rose bit her thumb and stared off to the side for a moment. “I don't think it really matters. Too many people have turned up in New York accidentally for there not to be some other force involved.”

Glad that she relented, Rose began to lead them to the bench. “There's more,” she agreed. “But it's not all bad.” Well, it was, but Rose felt the need to add a glimmer of something in there so that maybe she would know that she wouldn't be completely on her own as the information continued. “There's a place called the Welcome Center for people like us. It's free and they help you get started until you can find a job and another place to stay.” Rose wasn't overly fond of the way it had just popped up, but there was no need to tell her that. They helped people in need and, at the moment, that was all that really mattered.

Rose sat down and wiped her hands on her jeans, having opted for something more casual outside of work. “It's just Rose, really. You don't have to . . . Rose works just fine.” Miss Rose sounded odd to her. Like she was old or stuffy. “But Homura.” Rose repeated the name slowly at first, worried she might mispronounce it, then smiled. “It's nice to meet you as well, Homura. Do you mind if I ask. . .” she paused. Rose wanted to ask her age. She seemed rather young, but thought better of it. “When you're from? The year before you came here, yeah?”

Rose gestured to the cars and then some of the people who were wearing outfits more suited to the time than Rose herself was. “I'm not sure if you would notice the difference or not. But all this . . . it's a bit outdated where I'm from.” She cleared her throat then decided it was best to rip the band-aid right off. “2006. That was the year for me. But now it's 1964.”