I Don't Want To Set the World on Fire Who: Nefertiti and Ryan When: early evening Where: Under the careful watch of a rock Progress: Completed Rating:PG for minor cursing
The storm left Nefertiti on edge and generally miserable. Damned if the goat got sick with pneumonia or chill or anything else that might be lurking out here. She had waited out under the brush clutched tight to the baying creature. Also be damned if it decided to run off in fear. Now in the dusk she sat cross-legged under a particularly large rock with her quilt up to dry on the edge above her. It still irked her that the last sugar cube had melted in her pocket. She thanked God that she had never been the prissy sort. This would of been a living hell. Living outside always got dirt so deep into your skin that not even the strongest scrubbing could get rid of it.
Tears had to be held back when in the stillness thoughts of her family came to her. She was homesick right down through the bottom of her heart. Sick for a home, she knew, she would never see again. Desperately she hoped her family had thought she had run off with a man or just run off, anything to make them feel safe that she was alive. No amount of screaming on her part would tell them. Even when she thought of her new "family" on this purple-tinged planet the empty ache in her chest refused to go away.
Ryan wasn't particularly a happy camper at this moment in time, either. His clothes were still damp, he hadn't accomplished much of anything today as far as pottery or cord braiding considering that their camp still wasn't back to normal after that horrible storm, and he seemed to be turned around and wasn't sure where he was. Darkness was always a problem for him, because he could barely see his hand in front of his face when it descended. So he was stubbornly plodding along, his jaw set, refusing to call out so somebody could find him if there was even anyone nearby. His hands reached for bushes and rocks to try to find his bearings, but he didn't feel anything that would have let him know where he was for sure.
Suddenly he stopped, thinking that he heard the smallest of sounds but not able to identify what exactly they were. "Hello?" he said softly, his fingers freezing in place.
Nefertiti had refrained from calling out when she heard something stumbling through the trees near her. Could be something looking for a meal after all and with no defense other than a fighting spirit she would be an easy one. When it got nearer she tried to press her body closer against the rock. When a very human voice called out to her she relaxed and slid back down the tree. In an equally soft voice she replied, " Hello yourself. Sorry for not saying something sooner. Wasn't too sure about what is lurking 'round in here. With the fire out it's even harder to tell. " She reached out her hand to gently tap his ankle to let him know where she was.
"No kiddin'," Ryan said, pleased that it wasn't some strange island beast or whatever. You just never knew what was going to happen next around here. He lowered himself to the ground after the fingers had tapped against his ankle. "You gotta be careful." The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't put a name to it. "I'm Ryan," he introduced himself, "and I can barely see you, so forgive me for not knowin' who you are?" His tone made it more of a question than a statement. The woman was a shape in the dimness, and he knew it wasn't Ro or Angelica or Helena, but that was all he knew.
Despite her best attempt, Nefertiti could not make anything defining about his features. Was that blond hair? A smile came to her face naturally in the dark, unnoticed but still there just the same, "I'm Nefertiti. Don't you worry none about knowin' who I am... because I don't even know who you are! What are you fiddling about in the plains for this late anyway? Be a shame to lose a friend before I even know 'em. " She got more comfortable by straightening up against the rock and bending a leg to rest her arm on, tilting her head to look at the mass that represented Ryan. Nope, she didn't mind any company, not to mention it was nice to meet new people anyway.
There was a rich, mellow note to her voice that Ryan liked immediately. "Guess you haven't been here long, huh? Nice to meet you." He sat cross-legged, getting more comfortable. Well, as comfortable as it was possible to get on the still-damp ground. "I got a little bit lost, actually," he told her when she asked why he was fiddling around in the brush. "I don't see well, 'specially at night, and I was tryin' to find my way back to camp." Yeah, he could have called out for help, but a guy had to have some pride, right? He'd found his way back by himself before, after all.
"Nope! Well, I suppose last night was only my second. I arrived early noon, I think, and right in a field of clay! If you can believe that. Who am I kidding though? If you wake up to purple grass you can probably believe in anything." With a gentle nudge with her elbow to (what she hoped) was his side, she let out a booming laugh, "I can't see too well in the dark neither, so I guess for now we're on a similar page. How long have you been here yourself? What didja do back on Planet Earth? Now I ain't the Spanish Inquisition! Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! Ha, did you ever watch that Monty Python skit?"
"Clay, seriously?" Ryan asked, interested in that. He had no clue where that might be. "Maybe you could show me where that is sometime? I've been making pots and plates and things like that out of any clay I could find. I'm an artist back home, and pottery was one of the things I did a lot of." He grinned when she laughed heartily and elbowed him, thinking that she'd be fun to have around. "I've been here for, wow." He squinted as he tried to think. "About three weeks or so." Somehow it seemed like longer to him. "And I don't remember that one. If I ever heard it, I must have forgotten."
"Naturally if you need it! I certainly ain't gonna do anything with the stuff. An artist, hm? Now I could always appreciate a pretty thang, but not much past that. You'll have to excuse any ignorant remark I make about a creation of yours. It's pretty or it's not, and that's as far as my deep thinking goes about it. " Nefertiti nodded in the dark, shifting her legs to stretch them both out in front of her. She was getting ready to continue when she heard it. Heavy breathing just a few feet away. Paranoia caused her to stiffen and hold her own breath, hoping whatever it was didn't notice her or Ryan. They'd be in a shitload of trouble if it did.
"Well, the stuff I make here isn't all that pretty," Ryan admitted. "It's just basic clay, kinda boring. I don't have anything to make it pretty with." He missed doing art just for the hell of it, but he didn't have the time or the tools to do that at the moment. Honestly, he'd much rather have a hot bath to soak in and a glass of wine than anything else he could think of right then. He frowned when he heard the noise, but it didn't scare him, mostly because it sounded like a grazer to him. "Shoo," he said mildly, flapping his hand in its general direction.
Nefertiti let out a sigh of relief when whatever it was ambled away. "Sorry for being so damn jumpy. Just ain't used to this place yet I imagine. Anyway, I'm sure you could create something right beautiful with just the hands the Lord herself gave you. I suppose it ain't really got a place here in the wild when the clay could be used for plates or cups but taking a little time to do a small frivolous thing rarely hurt anyone." Internally she scolded herself for the earlier paranoia. No need to start the short trip for being a simpering mess.
"I think the grazers are like dogs sometimes," Ryan remarked. "They forget they're not human." He shrugged. "Can't blame you for that. It's seriously weird here." Anyone would have a reason to be jumpy after the death of someone in their group and the storm they'd been through. "Herself?" he asked, amusement in his tone.
"I don't know what you believe Ryan, but I always seen God more as a woman than a man. Kinda like my own mother, I guess. Sweet as pie when you're polite, always there to kiss a scraped knee, ready with the belt if you make a mistake. The whole Bible does refer to God as a man but what do they know anyway? Ain't nobody around these days ever really come into contact with her. All the miracles dried up." Still a little jumpy, she brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, peering out into to the darkness for any lurking danger.
"I believe that God is," Ryan said, "but I never thought about what sex he or she might be." His tone was cheerful enough; he was fine with religion and faith as long as nobody tried to insist that he practice their way. "But what do I know, I was livin' in the city of sin and iniquity, right?" He loved New Orleans, but he'd heard of preachers who'd said the citizens of the city had gotten exactly what they had coming to them with Hurricane Katrina. That was the type of religion he wanted nothing to do with. "So what did you do?" he asked her, since he hadn't heard from anyone else since she'd been here.
Warmth flooded into Nefertiti's tone when she answered his question, "Oh! I was officially a vet tech, went to a 2 year and everything for it but I really pay the bills with my horse training. Loved the damn creatures to death. Stubborn of course, but loyal and loving. Working with animals has made a lot more patient, I'm sure. I'd dig my claws into ya as soon look atcha ya when I was a young thing." She went quiet for a few moments in thought, then continued, "Just livin' in a place of 'sin' don't make you a bad person. My mom and dad live in Detroit, and anybody from 'Merica knows that place ain't exactly sunshine and rainbows. None of that hellfire and brimstone stuff is for me, Ryan, mostly because it's downright depressing and I don't enjoy being depressed."
"That sounds like an awesome job," Ryan said, thinking that she sounded like it had been more of a calling than just a job. He snickered at her when she said she would have dug her claws into him when she'd been a young thing. "Okay, grandma... how old are ya? I'm nearly blind over here so I can't see you well enough to tell." He always appreciated people to talk with who could take a joke, who had good senses of humor. It made everything easier. "Yeah, I'm kinda like that too," he told her. "I don't see the strippers and the bars and the other things some people consider sin when I'm there. I see the creativity, the unique culture, the way people just dug in their heels after the hurricane and said, 'hell no, we're not goin' anywhere. This is home.'"
Nefertiti tsked and slapped his arm, "Young man! Don't you know it ain't polite to ask a lady her age? " She huffed indignantly and for a moment acted as if he had just committed the greatest offense on this foreign planet." Another raucous laugh later and it was made perfectly clear she was just joking with him, "Good thing I'm not a lady! No, this grandma is the very regal age of thirty-three." Forgetting once more a. it was darker than a cave and b. there were things out here that could eat them Nefertiti pumped her fist into the air and let out a triumphant yell. "Hell yeah! You guys got the right idea by not leaving! Power to the people who say no matter how fucked up this place it is still home and I be damned to hell if I'm not going to try and fix things 'round here!". Feeling accomplished after that Nefertiti slumped once more against the tree and let out a pleased sigh.
Ryan was laughing, unable to help himself, very definite overtones of this woman is nuts running through his brain. It was great, though, to get distracted by amusement rather than something horrible, which seemed to happen too often out here. "Hell, you're old enough to be my... older sister?" he said. "I'm twenty-four. Still wet behind the ears, ya know." She was hilarious, he decided. "So what do you think about this place so far?" he wanted to know. "Dream, nightmare, existentialist head-trip, worst luck in the known universe?" He was always curious to know what people would say when he asked them that question.
"I choose D, none of the above! I figure it must be well, purpose. I must be here for a reason. Maybe that is an existentialist head-trip?" Nefertiti's voice turned a little defensive at the last statement. She did not know what existentialism was, in fact it sounded like something the scholary sorts would agonize about in dusty libraries. People with time to waste, which she had none of back in Michigan. She had always lived by heart, and what she believed in. No label attached. "There are things that happen, and they just feel right and they make no sense, and they may bring no awards, and I think they may be the real reason we are alive. To support one another and make people laugh and say it was good."
"There's nothin' wrong with thinking there's a purpose to it," Ryan told her. He wasn't sure he believed that was the case for him; he'd have to think about it some more. But if Nefertiti wanted to believe that, he had no problems with that. "I mean, for me, I have trouble seein' why the powers that be would take a nearly-blind artist out of New Orleans and put him here, ya know?" He sighed and rubbed his eyes, then dropped his hands to his lap again. "My parents were never much on church, but I used to go with this friend of mine sometimes when I was a kid, and the preacher would always say God knows everything, is in charge of everything, has a reason for everything. I just... dunno, though."
The tone in Nefertiti's voice changed from one of defense to one that suggested surreality. "Maybe there were aliens that beamed us up. Maybe you and me are just figments of imagination and inside somebody's play-world. If I didn't think I had a reason for being here, I might just break down and bawl. Things were good in Michigan, I was training horses, flirting at the bar, camping like some fucking yooper. As for organized religion, I have none of it. The faith that people cling to for support often seems warped and perverted into something hateful. People treated like filth and told they are going to Hell? No thank ya." She lolled her head to the side, peering at Ryan once more, "Besides, I don't know if being nearly blind is so bad. You get the chance to judge a book by its words instead of the outside cover."
"Hey, aliens is as good a theory as any," Ryan said, his tone matter-of-fact. Not that he seriously believed that, but he was living on a planet where they had to defend against three-legged carnivores and the grass was purple. If anything might make one suspend disbelief, that would. He nodded at her assessment of religion, having found that it came across that way to him, too. "Have you met the priest, Alex? He's pretty cool." Pretty cool meaning that Alex had not yet lectured him and Thorne and Ro on their sleeping arrangement or any other sort of arrangements they might have. He didn't know if that would last, but it was good for now. He smiled at her words, liking her unconventional view of his vision. "Really, it isn't so bad most of the time," he said. Complaining never got him anywhere, so he tried not to do much of it.
" I have not met him yet! No doubt I will eventually. " Nefertiti idly made trails in the dirt with her fingers, sighing softly, " Did you have any big plans back on Earth? I didn't. Just planned to go about my business, maybe have a kid or two and settle down. No world-changing person here. " She turned her head away from him to once again stare up at the foreign sky. She was gonna miss Ebony's baby being born, her brother's medical school graduation, and even the breaking of Starbrow. The only thing she could do for them now was send up a prayer and hoped it reached them somehow.
"No big plans," Ryan told her. "I was gonna hang with my roommates, hopefully get enough paintings together for an art show, visit home once in a while. The normal stuff you do when you're twenty-four and unattached, I guess." Instead I'm here in Outer Bumfuck with no modern conveniences and no freaking Coca-Cola. He missed carbonated beverages, a lot. But again, what point was there in bitching about it? If he had to be here, at least he had friends.
"What kind of art floats your boat, Ryan? My sister Ebony is an artist. A graffiti artist, really. If you were ever up in Detroit you woulda heard of S.H.E. I guess now the secrecy doesn't matter, because well fuck, it's not like I'll ever see her again, or that city. She did politically charged stuff, protested for the release of prisoners of war and all that. My parents were awful proud, my dad is a former Black Panther. Hence, the African 'pride' names that we have!" Nefertiti let out a wistful sigh and scratched her neck. At least in this world they wouldn't have to suffer the trials of racism. They'd probably all end up the same tan color! Or even purple, if that was what this sun did.
"I'm a sculptor mostly," Ryan told her. "I'd occasionally do abstract paintings. They always came off as kinda eerie... guess that's what happens when you give a guy who doesn't see well a paintbrush." He snickered. "That's pretty cool," he said when she told him her sister was a graffiti artist. "I'm into just about any kind of art. There're people in New Orleans who sell paintings and stuff along this one alley near the cathedral, where all the tourists go." Man, he needed to quit talking about it, because it was making him miss his adopted hometown.
"All this talk is making me homesick. But we just started our lives here. I think I'll call it Nyambe, if only to myself. He's the God of restoring life. It fits to me." Nefertiti slowly rose to her feet and offered a hand to Ryan. "It's getting dark. Figure we should head back to camp. Who knows how long it'll take!" Internally she was getting more and more sad by the minute, missing her family and the place she had lived her entire life. If she was going to cry, she would do it in the semi-privacy of her lean-to! It was time to open the flood-gates and let unshed tears roll freely. The grief would hopefully be dissipated by then, and she could carry on trying to survive.
Ryan took her hand, grateful for it; he had such a hard time making his way around once the sun had gone down. Most people didn't realize what a big difference that made. "Back to camp," he agreed. At least this time he knew he'd get there. He needed to be less stubborn about finding his way sometimes, but he was used to learning routes and getting around on his own. That didn't necessarily work here. Off they went, and his mind preoccupied itself with pottery concerns and checking on Ro and Thorne and what might possibly happen tomorrow. One hour, one night, one day at a time, right?