kollo_rpg | March Mingle

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March Mingle

There have been waterlilies throughout summer, clustered around the shorelines and butting up against the jetty. Sometimes they've bloomed, sometimes they haven't, but it's never been quite like this. They're everywhere now, even as we move into autumn. They crowd the beach, they give the ferry a hard time to land, they practically fill the lake end to end — and they're all blooming in golden yellow and bright white.

It's unnatural, in so many ways. Beckoning. Come closer. ]

EVENT INFO

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The weather's starting to cool off a little and that means Jack is taking every opportunity he can to get in some swimming before it gets entirely too cold.

And so he's here at the lake in his little blue Speedos, peering down at all the waterlilies. He's noticed them increasing in number everywhere - here, at the dock, at the beach - and now there are so many that he can barely see the surface of the water, but that's not going to stop him diving in, gasping as the chill of the water hits him, and finding himself having to push thick green leaves apart with every stroke as he swims. That doesn't really bother him; after all, they're pretty and they smell heavenly, and he's not the sort of person who believes in myths and unexplained mysteries, so he's not prone to the sort of feelings the locals are displaying these days.

But he is, today, getting an odd sensation that he's not alone. He can't see anyone else in the lake or the surrounding woods, but he keeps thinking he hears giggling, or feels something brush against his leg in the water. He tells himself it's just the wind in the trees, or the stems of the waterlilies, but then there's a touch that feels way too deliberate to be mere plantlife, and he jerks, his own hand swinging down to his ass as if expecting to find a hand there, but there's nothing.

"Hey, who's there?" he calls out, twisting round to try and see beyond the lilies crowing the surface.

He really should listen to his intuition more often. There's a movement under water, slimy tendrils just barely fluttering by his leg - seaweed, or maybe hair, it's hard to tell. Perfectly normal things to experience while swimming in a deep forest lake, don't you think? It's probably just a big fish. Nothing to worry about.

That is, until something that feels very much like a hand wraps itself suddenly and tightly around Jack's ankle, yanking him down under the water.

He's just... Even after all he's seen, and his exposure to magic of various kinds in MarinaNova, Jack is still very much a creature of the physical world. He may be able to accept intellectually that there's more out there than what he can see and touch, but he's really not given to giving any weight to those little shivers that run down his spine every now and then.

Even now, he's still very much holding out for a reasonable explanation. There are people from all kinds of universes here, after all. No reason why one of them shouldn't be able to swim underwater without surfacing for the few minutes he's been here. No reason why that should be anything more supernatural than a bit of weed brushing against him.

Until he's grabbed by the ankle and yanked downwards. He yelps and starts to yell "Hey!" again, only to shut his mouth again fast as he's dragged under the surface. He kicks out, eyes staring wildly through the water, dim and murky under all the lilies, trying to make out his attacker.

Luckily, the attacker lets go almost as quickly as it grabbed, aiming to scare rather than actively drown — this time. Jack may see a shape swim past, fast and smooth like a fish but much larger. Surely there aren't any dolphins in Scandinavia? The shape moves past and away, disappears between the long roots of the waterlilies, only to reappear behind Jack. Hands grab his sides, giving him a swift and easy lift up to the surface.

He just about remembers not to gasp in relief when he feels the grip slip away from his ankle, and then turns quickly when he sees/feels something big swim past him. Or tries to turn quickly - it's not so easy to move fast in water, unless, apparently, you're whatever the hell that was. He's still trying to turn when it reappears behind him and there are hands on his sides and he's being propelled up to the surface.

He finally does gasp when he breaks the surface and immediately tries to slip free so he can twist round to see who - what - it is that attacked him and then, well, saved him. Not that he was exactly going to drown without that helpful lift up to the surface, a strong swimmer like him, but it was definitely a turnabout in intention, and means he's less scared than just curious as he pants a bit to get his breath back and then demands, as he twists round, "What was all that about?"

This time the creature stays, partially hidden under the lily pads. Big, dark, wet eyes peer up at Jack with mishief, a soft but distinctly masculine giggle bubbling forth across the surface.

"I'm just having a little bit of fun. You could give me that much at least, seeing as you're in my lake."

He lifts an eyebrow, treading water. "Your lake, huh? Sorry, nobody told me it was taken!"

He grins. "And I'm hardly one to say no to a bit of fun - just prefer it not to include drowning!"

"Oh, you were fine. I wasn't actually going to drown you!"

So silly, Jack Harkness. The creature bobs under water for just a moment, re-emerging a foot or so to the left. This time he - because it is a he - stands up at his full height, revealing a toned, sunkissed body and long greenish-brown hair that cascades over his shoulder in drenched tresses. His eyes are dark and shadowed, his skin has an unusual translucent sheen to it. This isn't just any man.

"You're my guest, after all. It wouldn't be proper."

"Well, thanks, I appreciate that," he drawls, watching curiously as the creature finally reveals itself... himself. Very definitely male, and also rather beautiful, as well as definitely otherworldly.

He smirks a bit. "I can think of far more fun things to do than pretending to drown unwitting strangers!"

"You haven't done many drownings, then."

It's a joke - or it's at least disguised as a joke. He may be bound by agreements and rules, but that wasn't always the case. Back in the good old days, he did little but drown people!

"I'm glad you're enjoying the island. It's quite the special place."

"I'm fairly sure I haven't done any drownings," he remarks dryly. "And I really don't think I'd get much fun out of it. Been on the receiving end too many times for that."

Things are finally starting to come together in his mind - the warning on the cabins at the beach, his conversation with Ingvar the other day, and the talk of drowning together with faint memories from somewhere in his distant past when he'd visited Scandinavia before - and he narrows his eyes, studying the man before him.

"You're the Brook."

Spoken without fear, but with some cautiousness.

"My reputation proceeds me."

He seems pleased rather than surprised or angry that the locals have been talking about him - he assumes that's why this man knows his name. So few do these days and even fewer know to be afraid of him.

"And who might you be?"

"It certainly does," he says mildly, but with a faintly implied warning behind those simple words.

Then he twitches a smile, wondering if his own reputation has got about yet, although to be fair he hasn't really got up to much here. Unless you can count sex and a spanking on a barely-private beach beneath the cliffs.

"Captain Jack Harkness. Good to meet you at last, Brook."

As one of the Unseen, the Brook is pretty much privy to anything that happens in or near a body of water so he may already be aware of any beach hanky panky that's been going on. It's such a mundane thing though, barely anything worth mentioning.

"Captain Jack Harkness." He repeats the name, stressing the syllables, rolling the sounds over his tongue like candy. "And what brings you here, Captain Jack Harkness?"

Yeah, if this guy is as otherworldly as he seems, Jack's fairly sure his antics with Ianto are known. But the Brook doesn't seem the type to judge. He certainly seems to like having fun, even if not quite the same kind.

"Here to the lake?" Because that seems fairly obvious. "Or here to the island in general?"

That's the thing about the Unseen. They don't judge the way the mundane does. They accept, embrace, occasionally drown or disorient, but never judge. How they got such a bad rep is a mystery, honestly.

"Both, perhaps. However you choose to answer my question."

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March Mingle

Re: Brook encounters.

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