First Entrance

[ikissdhimbck]

It's hot this time of year out in Texas. Late summer, when the air turns so thick with moisture you can cut it with a butter knife. Kate's biding her time in Galveston, waiting for the hubbub to die down after her last big heist, but not even the ocean breezes coming off the coast can put a dent in the heat. That may be the greatest shock when she expects to set her boot down on weathered wood and gets the shiny floors of Ten Forward instead, sun gone and replaced with bright, cool light. She lifts her chin to see out from under the brim of her stetson (it used to be white, but dust and clay have turned it tawny), blinking hard at the sight she sees. She sets her hand to her hip, fingers brushing the rosewood grip of her Colt. This ain't the first time she's been pulled away from home — in fact, she's even used to the idea of strange rooms and odd future technology — but this ain't like any place she's been before. And just how did she get here?

She swallows down a yelp, taking stock of the room. People are dressed all strange, and outside the windows all she can see are stars. This ain't right. She's not gonna let herself panic, but this ain't right. Hell, she's done this once before, ended up somewhere she didn't plan on, so she looks around for people she might know.

"Tommy?" she calls, disappointed when she hears desperation in her voice. "Marian? Jim? John?"

She's working down her list of folk she trusts, folk who could take charge of the situation, folk she wouldn't leave home without. She's looking for answers, and a safe harbor.

"Tom?" she calls again, voice softer this time.


[ooc: Kissin' Kate Barlow is a former schoolteacher, about midway through her canon and a few years into being the meanest outlaw Texas has ever seen. At least, that's her reputation. She's as harmless as a pussycat so long as you don't threaten her, and searching for some answers. Kate's been in a game before, so she knows about things like airplanes and space travel, but she's pretty much your typical 19th century woman, and if you're confused about anything at all please contact me! I'm friendly, and happy to thread with anybody!]

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[jack_f_twist]

Jack has been poked and prodded and stung with something they said was a vaccine, though it didn't look like any needle he's ever seen, and he hasn't been able to smoke now in three. Goddamn. Days.

Something about contained atmospheric control, or some other horseshit, and Jack is in as foul a mood as he's ever been, staring moody at what the bartender insists is just like whiskey and what Jack has been too suspicious of to drink. His head is pounding and his fingers are twitching and he's out of smokes anyway, and there is just no goddamn way in hell this could get any worse, which is probably why the universe finally gives him a fucking break, in the form of a petite blonde who appeared out of nowhere and looks as confused to be here as he feels.

He lifts a hand to wave her down, mouth twisted in aggravation. "Holy hell, you gonna holler yourself hoarse? I gonna be that lucky?"

[ikissdhimbck]

Well. When she was hoping for a friendly face, she could've hoped for a friendlier face than his sour puss.

Still, she eases her hand off her sixshooter and lets out a little sigh of relieve, moving in on where he's sitting.

"M'sorry, am I disturbin' you?"

She don't sound the least bit sorry.

[jack_f_twist]

"Ain't you always?"

He gestures at her with his glass of...whatever the hell it is, relief of his own hidden deep under the downwards tug of his mouth. "I can't even come to another universe for some peace 'n quiet without you tailin after me?"

[ikissdhimbck]

She scoffs.

"Don't flatter yourself, darlin'."

(However, there is an unmistakable twitch to her lips, that bright spark of humor in her blue eyes.)

"How do I know you haven't jus' roped me in here? I certainly wasn't lookin' t'be plucked outta Texas. Bet you jus' got bored."

[jack_f_twist]

He tugs at his hat brim, tosses back the amber-colored liquid in the tumbler he's been nursing, and makes a face. "If I coulda roped somebody in, how come you ain't that sweet little thing who won the barrel race in the last rodeo, huh?"

[ikissdhimbck]

"'Cuz your aim's jus' as bad as I've always said."

Honestly, Jack. What else could it be?

She eyes that now-empty glass with a powerful longing, sidling up to the strange bar and giving it a long, hard look. She sets her elbow down cautiously, and when the whole thing doesn't give way she crosses her ankles.

"Where'd you get that?"

[jack_f_twist]

He lifts the empty tumbler, waggles it towards the bartender in both answer and request.

"They don't take money." Jack regards this quirk with deep suspicion. Maybe capitalism hasn't always worked out so well for him, but it's how things work, ain't it? "And I got no idea what this shit is supposed to be, but it ain't whiskey."

Not really, anyway.

[ikissdhimbck]

"Well, that's a cryin' shame."

Kate could stand a drink right about now. She's got a creeping, crawling feeling going down her spine, and his words only get the natural response.

"What do they take?"

Suspicious as a mama goose guarding her babies.

[jack_f_twist]

"Fuck'f I know."

He's right there with you, Kate. Nice as it might be to not have to spend his hard-earned cash, there's something mighty wrong with any bar that's not trying to turn a profit.

He watches her over his own shoulder, studying that wary look on her face, the ready set to her shoulders. "Want somethin? May as well drink, it bein free."

[pyrrha_pandora]

Here comes a little redhead in a fox-hooded sweater, doing his best unsteady toddler run in her general direction.

(He's happy to see somebody else he knows.)

He's followed by someone else just as distinctive, and just as familiar. She doesn't have to run, though. She's a lot taller than Egil is.

"Hey--oh, puppy, watch out."

[ikissdhimbck]

Kate feels the thud of a child colliding with her shins, and almost loses her balance. Luckily, it's a feeling she knows pretty well, so her weapon stays right where it is.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I — Egil?"

She blinks hard, and starts looking around for—

"Pyrrha!"

[pyrrha_pandora]

A very happy toddler, who is torn between not wanting to let go and also doing the waving his arms around and hopping thing, to show he wants to be picked up.

"I am so glad you're here," Pyrrha says as she comes up. "I'm here in my own actual flesh this time--which you're about to get a hug from. If that's okay. I probably put that in a really weird way."

But she has an actual body and she has a friend here and that's the important thing.

[ikissdhimbck]

Kate laughs, all relief and amusement, and wraps her arms around Pyrrha.

"What d'you mean? You're not joined with Loki anymore?"

This is all mighty strange. She thought, for just the briefest moment, that maybe the barroom had just changed its shape and she was the last to know, but no. Pyrrha is different, looks like she's been waiting a while to find a familiar face, and this all feels strange. Kate's not sure what to make of it.

One thing she is sure of, just as soon as she's relinquished her hold, is that there's a little boy in need of cuddling. She smiles warmly at the happy child with the flame-colored hair, and promptly crouches down to gather him up.

"Hello, sweetheart."

[pyrrha_pandora]

"Yeah, no, but... well, he's here, I've seen him. And I can't be in the same room with him if we're still in the same body. He says this one's all mine."

She doesn't really have a choice but to believe him, this time.

"His wife's here, too. She seems nice."

And Kate gets another hug, this one from Egil. He knows when people like him, and they get affection in return.

[ikissdhimbck]

She practically beams sunshine when the young'n puts his arms around her, returning the cuddle with vigor. He's gotten so big since the last time she saw him. Such a perfect little man, now.

"Really?"

Her eyes go as wide as china saucers.

"Y'mean you're free? You're good an' honestly free? Pyrrha, that's wonderful!"

[pyrrha_pandora]

A real little ladykiller, too--Egil knows how to kiss people.

Sloppy kiss on the cheek. You get within range, you get the lovin'.

"I got my own body, I got my favorite puppy, and--and they said he's mine. That they'll just be his grandparents, and never take him away."

What she doesn't have is her fiancé. But she's trying to stay focused on the positive.

[ikissdhimbck]

Kate giggles as she feels the wet, gooey imprint of Egil kisses on her cheek. She's not afraid of sloppy kisses, even if she's reluctant to give them in return. She does have a reputation, after all.

Besides, she doesn't want to get lipstick on the baby.

"Gracious me! I'm so happy for you, I really am! When did all this happen? An' where are we?"

[mirabile_mireille]

Butch has been doing his best to keep Mireille calm--and really, it's been working. She's got somebody she trusts here, even if Weyland is gone, and that makes her feel safer.

But someone she's known even longer than Butch, someone who was her first real friend? Even better.

Here comes a mechanical woman in mourning dress, grip on Butch's arm tighter than she probably realizes as she pulls him along.

[ikissdhimbck]

Kate's looking around still, hunting for familiar folk and taking in her new surroundings with suspicion. It's so much brighter than the bars and taverns she's used to. Cleaner, too. Everything seems to glow, and that don't sit quite right. Feels unnatural, like maybe this is some kinda trap.

When she hears footfalls rushing in her direction, she's just about sure of it. Her hand grips her six as she spins, readying herself to draw — only she knows those faces. Knows them better than the back of her own hand.

"Mireille! Butch! Thank goodness you're here!"

[i_got_vision]

"Poor Betsy didn't come along," Butch says as they approach. "She doesn't know what she's missing."

There'll be other bicycles, surely. Maybe even some kind of fancy space-bicycle that they let folks ride around in the hallways here.

"You all right?"

[ikissdhimbck]

Even given her reservations, she can't help but smile. Butch is good like that, always getting her to laugh when laughing seems too hard.

"She's pro'ly just back in Texas."



Which reminds her:

"With Beaut."


She hopes she hasn't been separated from her horse. A day or two ain't so bad, but if she's here for any length of time — who's gonna look out for her?

"I'm all right, I think. Jus' showed up here outta the blue. How 'bout you two?"

[mirabile_mireille]

"Confused but unharmed," Mireille says. "We were on our way to a concert, but we came here instead. It seems to be safe."

She still doesn't exactly like it, but it would be rude to say so. It's all too... automated. There's nothing for someone like her to do here. They don't seem to cook at all.

[ikissdhimbck]

"How long have y'been here?"

Something's playing tricks with time. She knows she just saw them not that long ago out in Texas, but maybe more time has passed for them than it has for her.

[mirabile_mireille]

"...a day, I think? It's hard to tell. There's no sun, only stars, and there are people around doing things at all hours. For us it was evening when we left, but I don't know what time it is here. It feels like a day."

She doesn't like that much either. How is a person supposed to build a routine when there's no sunrise or sunset?

[ikissdhimbck]

She blinks.

"Really? A whole day?"

No sun? No moon, then, either? Just stars. She glances back out the windows, eyes turning the size of silver dollars. So this is space, just like Jim had always talked about.

"Lord have mercy."