ameliaxdalton - Tumblr blog

[ameliaxdalton]

Fear was familiar, and Amelia, she'd ended up seeing some wacky places thanks to these portals, so it wasn't as if being thrown into a new environment was such a foreign concept to her, but this was a whole new level of tempremental and insane. And fucking freezing.

Nick wanted to blame 'guess work' and she didn't have the balls or the time to be mad at him for it so she just followed him, trying not to seem as scared as she felt as they scrambled across the ship. Where was the crew anyway, shouldn't a ship this size have had dozen of people manning it?

She made it up the last few steps with his help, just thankful she knew better than to go through portals in her skates, though her sneakers were probably ruined. "Maybe the storm was too rough, and they took off, or..." Amelia's gaze scanne dthe dark, choppy waters, not sure if she'd feel better or worse for seeing someone floating away.

Amelia followed him, reluctant to be left to her own devices even if she probably couldn't help steer much, had as good of an idea about navigating this thing as Nick did so two heads were better than one, maybe.

But three were certainly worse. The voice cutting through the storm pulled a quiet and pathetic sound- her throat was already wrecked by seawater and yelling- of fear from her and Amelia ducked behind Nick before she could think to feel either selfish or foolish about it.

Run, she wanted to say, because another thing she'd learned was that she could never win a fight. But... "I don't think we've got a lot of places to go that she won't find us." She pointed out, clinging to his arm. "We're just-" She called out, a knee jerk to not leave an aggresor waiting, and she was stomping closer anyway. Redirect, that was the best option. "We're just trying to get to dry land... Where's the rest of your crew?"

“Anything!” There was fuck all to hold onto, and the deck was slick with sea water. Another roll, dip and then suddenly the ship was righted again. Nick groaned, feeling the ache from being tossed about the ship like a rag doll. “Not here…dry land…” He’d been hoping for New York, but hadn’t quite got enough credits to dial in all too precisely. Though he did recall punching in a date –– just so happened Nick had been after an old, beautifully ornate, and first edition copy of Frankenstein. Which would’ve roughly landed them somewhere in the 1800s. “Guess work isn’t it?”

Steering. Yes, that would prove useful right now. Nick craned his head against the battering of salted winds, there was a deck above them, at the far end of the ship. They could reach it if they made a dash but there was a risk to that too. On the other hand, they were sitting ducks plonked in the middle holding on for dear life. “Up there.” Nick gestured, and then shifted to hold onto the railing she’d tethered herself too. He just about manoeuvred himself around to the foot of the stairs. His hand had slipped down into hers and slowly, made to move them both up onto the top deck. For better or worse it meant crawling on hands and knees. Reluctantly he let her go. There was some notion of responsibility, he’d brought her out here, and now they were on perilously steep waterlogged steps.

Nick made it to the top, and crouched behind the railing, one arm looped through it. “What I don’t understand.” He shouted, the sting of the wind nearly stealing the air from his lungs. “Is how this…ship is totally abandoned? Here?” Nick held out his hand to help haul Amelia up onto the deck. “Right let’s get this bitch out of here.” Nick scrambled around to the ship’s wheel, hauling himself up and heaving on it to guide the ship from harm. Though he wasn’t even sure there’d be freedom out of the heavy dark hangover of grey.

“What in the fuck are you two doing?” A voice cut through the roar of the storm, and Nick nearly leapt out of his skin, the wheel almost getting the better of him. Climbing up the stairs was a giant of a man. Nick nudged Amelia to whisper –

“Run or fight?”

[ameliaxdalton]

Her father only seemed to grow heavier on her back, his free arm twitching and flailing like it was throwing something only he could see. It made Amelia flinch every time, turning her face away from whatever wasn't smashing against a wall that wasn't infront of her.

Pathetic and scared and just trying to power through this madness, still clinging to the hope that it would have an end. This couldn't just be her life now. Not again. Not when there was nowhere to escape to.

It had to end. This was just Halloween lunacy, or another bad trip. Like the one she'd tried to convince herself she was having when she got here in the first place. He'd gone quiet at least, but Amelia wasn't sure if that was a good thing. She tried to focus on Eva instead, chattering away. "Too old to what- dance? Be sexy?! Tch." She scoffed, like the idea offended her. Which it did. "Never. And yeah we're having a great time."

She leaned a bit closer to Eva to whisper, "what's trolling?" Her brows had pulled down, but before she could get an answer there was a far bigger mystery after their attention. After her fathers' at least, who, like he could sense it, gripped her shoulder tighter.

The teleports looked like they were sick. She wouldn't want to go through one like this, wouldn't trust it. Would she? Her father didn't. What did he know? Amelia shifted her weight forward, then back again, that fear that what was on the other side could only be worse seizing her, as it had so often. She tore her gaze from the portal to look over at Emre, who looked just as clueless. "Someone's gotta test it, right?" She didn't really want to. But she also didn't want to be here, so a hop from one kind of hell to another didn't really matter. "Maybe.... Maybe he'll just like, get pulled back through, if I'm close enough..."

Amelia took one step, like she was brave, then wavered again wondering if hell was worse without friends, thinking about how she'd had to pack her suitcase in the dead of night. Her father was not the kind of man you could escape if he had an eye on you. "...Anything useful on those ridiculous screens?"

Amelia agreed to accompany them - him, and his jinn - and Emre nodded grimly. He kept looking at his phone as they headed towards Flower Tower. "Reckon it's Wesley paired with me, but that's alright." Wesley was a harmless little turtle of an old man, more harmless than even Walid, if possible. "Three pairs of eyes on them televisions is better than two innit."

Melody smiled, "Oooh aren't you sweet. I'm sure they were, luv," she cooed at Amelia. She fell back into her affable, agreement for agreements sake. Not that Amelia was going to stuff twenty quid in her thong or anything, but it was habit. "I was born in the late eighties. I suppose I've gotten a little too old to be doing what I am, but. When I was starting in dancing, there was ladies their in their fifties, still swinging their flappy little tiddies around! There's a fetish for that, you know. Grannies and that. Men is into that sort of -"

"Melz, I don't think Amelia wants to chat about what mandem is into, yeah," Emre cut Melody off, firm but clearly amused. "You're trolling her."

"I am not trolling her! You mind your own business, Emmy. Amelia and I are having a grand time innit."

Emre paused at the teleportation room then. "Right - just got to pop in here and check on the bloody things. I haven't seen them yet, if I'm honest..." He stepped into the room, where the teleports stood. Half the teleports seemed dead. And the others, the 'portal' part of the teleports were a sickly, hazy swirl of tealish-whitish, that occasionally popped like sputtering oil.

"Wait here, girls," Emre told Amelia and Melody, stepping closer to one to inspect the control panel. There were readings on the screen, not that Emre really understood them. He'd learned enough for his own teleporting and troubleshooting. But as he tapped at the screen, the light from the portal seemed to swell, shifting as if its attention was on Amelia.

Or...not Amelia. But the ghost behind her. Melody noticed this too.

"Is..." Melody looked from the teleport to Amelia's dad. "Is something going on?"

[ameliaxdalton]

"I'll write it." Amelia promises, grinning. She can see it already; two sisters, one wicked- like cool innit- the other whimsical. Adventures across wonderous lands...

She wasn't entirely sure what to do now. Amelia was just trying to bite back her panic while Emre did his best to turn her father to dust with his eyes and Eva flickered strangely, seeming morose out of the blue, and her fathers' hand still felt cool and threatening on her shoulder.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. She'd left him behind. She'd packed a suitcase and bought a bus ticket and never seen him again. Had she ever really healed, or had she only ever run away? At home, when it had been just the two of them, she could just quietly endure whatever mood might happen to take hold of him. She'd never had a friend present for his behaviour, and Emre here to watch her cringe and curl in on herself was mortifying, even if it was keeping her safe.

But then he announces his shiift at the tower and for a moment she is choked by panic at the thought of being alone with her father again. Not that the alternative of the four of them in such a confined space stops her eyes being wide as saucers. "...Okay." She gets out, her fingers curling and uncurling at her sides, trying to work out some of her panic.

Her father seemed to be leaning more heavily on her as they walked, and it was making her shoulder ache, her gaze tracked on the ground watching her own feet. "...I'm from the eighties, by the way." She tells Eva, barely glancing up but trying, "so, maybe in your day they were phonies, but I knew some real cool types."

"A fairy tale, really! We could both be in it then - the Adventures of Eva and Amelia. I put my name first because it rolls off the tongue better, innit," Melody wrinkled her nose in a tease, boldly broadcasting her real name under Amelia's approval. Her form flickered for a moment, like an old TV did when the antennae were slightly off.

"Mhm," Emre murmured, still studying Amelia's father. To quote the titular song, he wasn't afraid of no ghosts. If Amelia's father had a rap sheet as long as Emre's, he'd be surprised. The man was a stupid drunk and a horrid bully. And thus far, the ghosts - or jinn, as he still tried to believe - could be reactive, even damaging to their environment. But not harmful...except psychologically. Emotionally. Amelia's father wouldn't hurt him, Emre decided. But it likely could hurt Amelia if she fell back into her trained fears and old traumas.

But then Amelia snapped at her father, her words poignant and real. And enough to shut the ghost up it seemed, which piqued Emre's curiousity. So Amelia wasn't as trapped as the ghost made her seem.

Melody turned pensive too like a mirror to Emre, except she was reliving her own memories. "I miss being alive. I wish I still was..." She looked at Emre. "Then I'd tell him..." Melody hesitated, then burst into her delicious, delighted giggle, at Amelia's proclamation. "I'm sorry Amelia, but I am no starving artist. My art makes it rainnnnn ~" Melody sing-songed, as she swung her hips into a seductive booty-pop. "And them edgy badboys is all show, babes! They're either bollocks at shagging, or they just want to suck your toes all night and cry for mummy, innit. Innit, Emmy! Remember your mate Ranj -"

Emre's phone buzzed then, and he looked at it. "Bloody hell, is time for my Tower shift." The notification also said he needed to update a log about the glitchy teleports too. But he didn't want to leave Amelia alone with her monster on her back, so he asked: "Fancy joining me, Ames. We're good shift-mates, if nothing else." Emre flicked his chin at Melody. "You can keep my girlfriend."

Melody kissed her teeth in theatrical annoyance, as Emre looked up at Amelia's father and said under his breath. "I'll mind him."

[ameliaxdalton]

She seemed relaxed. Talkative. Was she how she had always been? Did Emre have some twisted up feelings about her too, even though things between them seemed so calm? Hauntings didn't have to look one way, even if hers was so macarbe and typical.

She felt quite pleased actually, that Emre would say she was a trustworthy sort, and did her best to turn her head away so that the name could be whispered without unwelcome guests listening in. It was never a good idea to keep secrets from him, but she had kept bigger and survived it. "Oh, but I think that's pretty." Amelia said, nodding managing a bit of a smile, "that's a name I'd give to a fairytale character."

Emre moved, and Amelia only dared glance at him for a second, her gaze widening. She didn't think it would be a good idea to let him too close, but she also didn't know what would happen if she took a step back. Would her father follow, chained to her movements, or would she just find herself further in his shadow? They were quite alike-- Emre and Eva, their colloquialisms. She wished that could hold her attention right now.

Amelia's teenage years had been the 70's, with free love still rippling out as a movement enough to help shape her views, and her first taste of personal freedom being that wild college campus in her twenties with all the counter culture she'd soaked in, well, Eva's profession was a non-issue. She tried not to feel her fathers' hard and dissaproving stare against the back of her head, rolling her free shoulder in a shrug, encouraging her to continue the story.

"Aw, Emmy. And of all the muppets she picked you." Amelia adressed him again, finding hersself biting back her delighted smile- that nickname was gold- while trying to shake her head at him, watching him watch her dad. Then she laughed at Eva's question, a short burst of surprise that she quickly silenced, her mouth pressing into a thin line as she waited to see if he'd react. Loud noise could be all it took, but thankgod they had company.

"He wishes" She starts, trying to pull herself together. "I'm more into the starving artists... What'd you call them, Emmy, edgy badboys?" She heard another moody grumble, about innapropriate conversations and how women should behave, and her chest felt so tight. God, this was ridiculous. "I'm thirty years old I don't have to listen to you." It's said very quickly, her head barely angled over her shoulder to say it to him, still not brave enough to look up at his face again. She turns her attention away again just as fast, and maybe it's an awful idea to piss him off more but she doesn't want his focus on Emre, who she doubts will heed her silent warning. "Actually, you're more my type." Amelia flashes a wavering but wicked grin at her new friend, "but I'm sure Emre isn't a lonely man."

"Trust, luv, you don't want mandem like him using your full name. Then you know something's wrong innit. Meh-loh-dee," Melody did an impression of Emre, making her face stormy and disapproving. But she burst out into a laugh; Emre's blow-ups had only ever been as big as Melody's, after all. "Amelia, oh well that's a lovely name, isn't it. Melody - that's not even my real name if I'm honest. It's, erm, my show name."

"I remember your real name," Emre said suddenly. He nodded at Melody encouragingly, towards Amelia. "You can tell Ames. Who's she gonna say what to. And you're dead, darling, you might as well."

Emre then returned to scrutinizing Amelia's father-ghost. He wasn't simply a figure of himself, like Melody was. Melody was herself but slightly off. Amelia's dad on the other hand, seemed gargantuan, looming. Indiscernible features, shadowy and ever-shifting form. Like a monster more than a ghost; and its only ability, it seemed, was to keep an ironclad grip on Amelia.

Melody considered Emre's words, then decided. In a whisper, she tried to tell only Amelia, not Amelia's father. "My real name's Eva. Bit boring, but I still like it."

Fearless - and curious - Emre stepped closer to the father-ghost. He felt no cold yet, no hackle or hairs raising on the back of his neck. Like all the other ghosts, Amelia's dad was like any other, despite its demeanor. So far. The threat was psychological then, attuned to Amelia and that grip on her shoulder. The promise of what was to come, when Amelia was alone with him.

Only, could he?

Melody blithely continued. "Bloody hell, that was ages ago! I worked at his boss' favourite club. A dancer, sweetheart. Hope that don't offend you but I can't be bothered if it does. I gave Emmy a lap dance he wouldn't forget, and now here we are..." Melody smiled fondly at Emre. "Oi. Tell your mate how good I was!"

"Yeah, yeah you was brilliant, Melody. I was fifteenth bloke that night to get the same work-up, and I was the muppet who asked you out after," Emre murmured, still squinting up at the dad.

Melody harrumphed, then looked at Amelia. "Patience, wot. I'm just the girlfriend innit. Is you really his mate? You don't...nothing else? I mean, I don't give a fuck about his sidechicks, honest. I'm dead now, can't be bothered."

[ameliaxdalton]

Amelia was hoping if she just kept moving her father wouldn't have time to do or say anything too awful. At least not to anyone except her. He could keep up his awful muttering in her ear, his cold hand heavy around her shoulder, and she would just keep walking and eventually the nightmare would be over or it wouldn't. After so long out of his presence she'd almost forgotten how it felt to curl herself in so tightly, be so quiet, but it had come back to her quickly.

She draws to a halt at the sound of a voice; soft and unknown to her, which is rare around here. Amelia looks up fom her feet finally, blinking like she's only just remembered her and the ghost of her father aren't the only inhabitants of the island.

Tea? She feels his grip tighten around her shoulder, real or imagined, heard echoed mantras about respect your elders. "Thankyou." Amelia said, her gaze flitting between Walid and the woman, assuming she must be his new plus one. She reached out a bit stiffly and took the mug, grateful for the warm weight of it in her hand. "...Shoulda' kept our costumes on, huh?" She asid to Walid, trying to laugh.

@ameliaxdalton

Walid hadn’t thought his mom would be capable of translating her most favourite pastime into a skill to use as a ghost. But now instead of his most trusted water bottle, he’d been sipping from mugs of tea. Especially made by their mother from beyond the grave.

She was happily making herself busy while they continued working. But because she’d never been good at not doing anything, she had begun distributing pots of tea to random passersby.

“Please, take some tea,” she said, her English tainted with the sing-song accent of Arabic, making it sound beautiful and light. “Homemade and delicious.” Which she couldn’t know since she wasn’t able to drink it, but since Walid hadn’t complained…

[ameliaxdalton]

It was a powerless sort of sound. Oh. It was the first thing so many people said when they realised there was no way out, or off. No answers. Amelia had been hunting for years with no luck, and she tried to help new arrivals make a smooth transition but there was only so much she could do. She'd heard so many residents make that noise.

She folded her hands under her chin, and gave Amy time to wrap her brain around things, shaking her head. "Nobody knows. And the library has never been any help with that- when I arrived it was barely more than a few shelves of super old fiction. There's never been answers here, at least not for the last thirty years."

Amelia tried to be soft and empathetic, "believe me, it's not for a lack of trying. You could try your luck swimming for your freedom, or scour every corner of the island for a way to make it all make sense..." She trailed off, shrugging. "There doesn't seem to be any pattern to the selection process, and most of us are from very different times and places. You arrived very recently, right? Must've still been living out there when it all... Well, went the way it did. Was there any sense in that? Any answers there?"

❛ Oh. ❜ A rather simple answer to what she has just been told by the librarian, and yet everyone with and without insight into human nature would be able to hear the disappointment resonating within her response. She had put so much hope into this place. Into this huge library, a tangible conglomeration of knowledge that is supposed to give answers to one's most burning questions, not leave people hanging just as clueless as before they entered the building.

❛ Why, ❜ she then asks with particular emphasis. ❛ How come that nobody seems to have found out anything about this island? ❜ Annoyingly little, that is. Nothing that would help them to go home permanently ( those who wish to go home ). The fact that nobody seems to really care about their lack of knowledge is just as annoying. Everyone just seems to have accepted their fate somehow.

Brief pause. ❛ So, nobody knows why we are here? Or, why some are here while others are not? ❜

[ameliaxdalton]

Amelia took some solace in the fact this likely meant he was dead, out in the real world. (No time to fall down the rabbit hole of calling her current world fake.) She hoped he'd drank himself to death alone in some ditch, and the police couldn't find anyone to contacct about his passing.

The woman with Emre looked a bit young to be dead, but then, the rest of them were a bit young to be trapped on a bizzare island. She was pretty, laughing with him. Amelia's brows popped up at the introduction, in no fit state to be in proper control of her expressions. Girlfriend, huh? Well, she had to be the type of chick who could really cut through peoples' bullshit. That was cool. "Y'hear that?" She teased, even if her voice was strained, "Melz, Ames. You think you got a nickname, turns out he just gets bored after the first syllable." The comment goes towards Melody, oddly greatful for a woman around- even if she is a spectral stranger-because she doesn't want things to escelate, and this kind of audience will help.

Melody calls herself a ghost, too, which makes her feel a bit clearer on the whole situation. Not better, but clearer, and the cutting wit no doubt aimed towards her unwanted tagalong makes her crack the smallest of smiles. "We can only hope."

It was the wrong thing to say. Maybe later Amelia would be proud of herself for bouncing back quick enough to say it anyway, but in this moment she regretted it. Her shoulder pulled back as his grip tightened and she cut her gaze back to her father- ignoring him hadn't helped her so far- who was mumbling this time about manners and respect and the like while Amelia tried not to wince, nodding and softly placating. "This is my friend Emre." She introduced, clearing her throat and unable to look anyone alive or dead in the eye, "Emre, this- yeah, 'hah. This is my dad." She bit her tongue on any more rude statements about him, forcing a brighter smile instead. "So, girlfriend?" She diverted, "I'm impressed anyone can have that much patience with him. How'd you two meet?"

"Did we really argue this much?" Emre paused in the middle of another row - this time about whether Melody was a 'ghost' or a jinn - to ask a greater question. It was strange, having Melody here. Like nothing had changed, and yet everything was different. She kept saying it too, pointing out how different Emre was. Which irritated him. If she was a jinn, then it was all just mindgames and tricks. If she was a ghost, then why the fuck was she minding him. She was the dead one. They should be mourning her loss of life, but Melody wasn't even giving Emre the chance to do that.

But Melody was willing to play this new game with Emre. "Of course we did, Emz. We just had loads of make-up sex to offset, didn't we. You sure you don't want to try shagging now?" Melody laughed - she did have a gorgeous laugh, it was wild hearing it again.

But as Emre smiled, relented, Melody's laugh cut off abruptly. If possible the ghost ducked behind Emre, peering intently over his shoulder.

Emre realized they weren't alone, and when he looked up, it took a moment to process. The ghost-man-creature, he didn't recognize. And the girl who it was holding onto...she was only barely recognizable herself. She looked as much of a ghost as the shifting, sour-milk monster hanging onto her, muttering to himself.

"Alright, Ames?" Emre returned. "Erm right -Halloween and that." Amelia told Emre not to mind the man - a man who Emre could guess to his identity now - so he did just that. "Strange night, innit. What with our new additions. I got my -" A stern clearing of Melody's throat; he shouldn't say 'ex' - " My girlfriend here, Melody. Melz, this is a mate of mine, Ames - erm, Amelia. She's a bookgirl innit. Loves books, runs a library."

"Alright?" Melody greeted Amelia and took the big-eyed cue from Emre not to pay attention to the muttering ghost behind her. She teased lightly. "Books, really? Reckon that's important and all, at the end of the world. You found anything in them books on how to get rid of us ghosts, then luvvie? Us ghosts can't hang about here forever, can we. Some of us got catching up to do on Corrie in heaven. " Melody's smile turned a bit razored. "Or...burning in the pits of hell for other sorts, innit."

[ameliaxdalton]

Who: Amelia and @emreakbar Where: The Beach

Amelia wasn't sure how long she'd been walking. Time itself felt like the biggest joke of all right now, anyway. What did all that time and healing matter if she got snatched away to an island that could conjure a more awful version of her father. His heavy presence looming just behind her- reeking of booze, his hand gripped her shoulder tight, a stain of black ooze slowly seeping into her t-shirt- and the familiar fear that gripped her chest pressed her to visit the ocean. Not as blue as she remembered California water, but that was hardly important. Nothing felt important, she could hardly think past trying to shake him off.

His face was marred, distorted, and Amelia wasn't sure why; she remembered it perfectly well. He didn't say much- perhaps the contortion of his features made it hard- but his sporadic mutterings were cruel and somehow she had heard them over the crashing metal playing through her headphones. Until he'd yanked them off her head, so she hadn't tried to tune him about again.

She swallowed thickly and refused to speak, gaze darting about in search of anyone that might have half a clue, or a distraction of some kind. Hell, she'd take a hole opening up in the ground. Emre happened along the shoreline before she had to resort to that, and his own tag along spectre assured her at least she wasn't a lone target in whatever cruel game this was. Amelia drew to a halt a fair bt away from him, wary of letting the image of the Dalton patriarch too close to anyone she cared about.

Slowly, she raised one hand in a small wave, aiming to smile but probably grimacing, her father grumbling vitriol again. "Happy Halloween." Amelia said, hearing how flat it sounded herself. "Don't mind him. He's... Hungover."

[ameliaxdalton]

Amelia had been on boats before. Growing up in California and all, and she'd missed the smell of a sea breeze in Seattle, but this was not how she had pictured finding it again.

She was soaked to the bone as soon as she was there, her hair whipped around and her teeth chattering. They should've used her credits, but sometimes you didn't want to know exactly where you were going, and the teleports had never done anything so unpredictable. The storm snapped her out of her daze, lurching her body violently to one side. She should've stayed in the library, she wasn't keen on the cold. Or dressed for it, but at least she wasn't wearing her skates. (It had been a bad idea to go through the teleport in them one too many times.)

At least she wasn't alone, but no, she may have been able to figure her way around a smaller, sleeker cabin in the gentle sway of the Los Angeles surf, but this was nothing like any boat she'd been on. "Hold onto what?!" She exclaimed, some distant echo of her writers brain writing poetry about how being frazzled in a storm was dangerous because she'd make the air about her crackle with static, and lightning could catch.

Another part of her brain, trapped in a life left behind long ago, made her flinch when Nick's hand wrapped around her arm, but she got past it quickly given everything else happening. The boat lurched again, and her free arm looped through a gap in the railing, trying to tether them both to something as the world tipped around them. They still landed heavily against the side of the ship, but at least they weren't lost in the waves. Covered in it though, again, Amelia's eyes stinging. "Just where were we supposed to end up?" She groaned, though she knew that wasn't really important right now. "There has to be a- a wheel, right? Some way to steer."

Location: Somewhere in the Atlantic ocean @ameliaxdalton

“What the actual fuck.” Nick shouted, but it couldn’t have been much more than a whisper as the ocean roared on all sides of them. Admittedly, he shouldn’t have been surprised this was after all the inevitable outcome when one was spendthrift with credits. Still the rock and roll of a creaky wooden ship filled him with dread. There wasn’t even anyone aboard but them. “AMELIA!” He shouted over the break in the waves, willing himself to step-come-shuffle across the slick deck without toppling himself over on the right side. Port side? He hadn’t really been longing for an authentic Odyssey. “Shit, right, any sailing knowledge you can tap into?” He roared, hoping the words would reach her. 

Nick grappled for ropes, not sure where they led to, or what they ultimately did if he tugged on them. He blinked against the salt, half hoping that maybe a shirtless Orlando Bloom would descend the top deck stairs barking orders. Alas, they were truly on their own. Maybe all they needed to do was ride out the worst of the storm if Nick squinted to the horizon he could see blue creeping around the edges of the murky grey clouds. “Hold on!” He lunged forward to grab Amelia by the arm, save her, and hopefully the both of them from disappearing into the swell.

[ameliaxdalton]

Perhaps she should impliment a library card, but that sounded like a very complicated system to set up, and so far with the population of the island having grown slowly like it did the honour system Amelia had always worked with was still holding up. Plus... She didn't really mind if people didn't bring stuff back, honestly. There was always more stuff out there to add to the collection. She offers Amy a cheery little wave as she heads out and returns to her book, but doesnt get far.

Amelia smiles, already glancing at her computer and pile of files to find what she can for the new resident, but her face falls a bit at the question. She understands, of course, the desire to understand this place. Has held it in her own heart for decades.

"That's... Not information you can find here. Or anywhere." Amelia shrugs, swallowing down her own anger at their situation to try and be positive. "I've been around a while though so I should be able to answer some of your questions. Not about the origins, I'm afraid that's a mystery."

❛ Oh, alright, ❜ Amy replies happily, surprised she is simply allowed to enter the library, still being . . . a stranger on this island, sort of. She still feels like a stranger at least, not like an actual resident with the same rights and privileges that everyone else has. Not even quite sure what those rights and privileges are, to be honest, given they are all trapped on an island they have not asked to be a part of. ❛ That seems easy enough. Thank you, Amelia! ❜ Amy continues her way and enters the main area of the library . . . and stops in mid-stride.

The library is even bigger on the inside than it seems to be on the outside. Almost endless rows of bookshelves stretch out in front of her, filled with more books, discs, and other media than she thinks she can even count. Amy quietly shakes her head, turning around.

She slowly approaches the librarian behind the desk again. Fingertips tap against the surface of the counter between the two women as she speaks: ❛ Uh . . . hi, it's me again. Sorry. I think I might need some help? ❜ A big grin that reveals a row of white teeth is supposed to accentuate her excuse for bothering the other yet again. ❛ —where do I find some information about this island? Its origins, perhaps? ❜

[ameliaxdalton]

It was the kind of TV that had never been on in Amelia's house growing up; encouraging, women orientated content. There was a deep well of knowledge that mothers and the other women in her circle growing up could've taught her, and sometimes it left her feeling lacking. She had no idea how to spruce up a patio.

"...After graduation me and my buddies put together all our money- and Jack's drumkit- to buy a van and move out to Seattle." Her only memorable experience with cars, "we got it off a guy I met at a Toy Dolls concert. That sounds fun though- your job. I was a music critic, I guess. I helped some people with their gardening too, ran a merch stand every now and then..." She'd done a lot of different jobs, and living at the commune had meant money wasn't always so important. "I was living on a commune out in Seatlle, and... I didn't have a lot of stuff, honestly, not a lot I was desperate to go back for anyway. I kinda wish I had some of my journals, but then again I like the idea that they kept existing out there without me.."

She set the milkto heat on the stove and added the coco along with a pinch of salt and a little espresso powder. The marshmallows were indeed baby sized, because they just made more practical sense.

Life on the road with your bandmates and lover. Almost funny that Archie had avoided the messiness of his sisters' life, but still ended up with one of the same issues; loving someone people sad you shouldn't. She poured their hot chocolate and added tthe marshmallows, not the type to present it all fancy or anything, but she knew it would taste good when she came back out to the living room and handed one of the mugs over to Jupiter. "I wish I could've seen them perform." Amelia said with a smile, "or gotten to meet Gladys. We moved when- well, we moved a lot, and like you say I guess they weren't in one place for long either, but I bet life on the bus was a fun time."

She realized they'd been standing around a bit too long, and shuffled over to her sofa and armchair, "help yourself to a blanket if you want one." Amelia gestured vaguely to the few thrown about, "and don't worry about a coaster or anything. Just... Try not to leave the mug on any paper." The piles of them left about were already marked with coffee stained circles, of course, because Amelia was terrible for following her own rules. And there was a lot of paper.

"Well, not as big as Oprah, but she walked so women like me can run, y'know what I'm saying? I had giveaways and makeovers! It was all in Toronto, a show for Canadians. We focused more on lifestyle - and a black woman's lifestyle too. Even us black girls got concerns about how to buy a new car or spruce up our patios for summer parties..." She giggled. "I loved my job."

Jupiter made a sympathetic noise about Amelia not having the photo, but it wasn't a surprise. Most people were taken to the island by surprise, not with a packed bag of everything they owned. And by the time the teleports opened, the world had already been broken. "Have you ever gone back home to look for your things? Where'd you live anyway?"

Amelia disappeared behind her bearded curtain, but Jupiter stayed politely where she was. She pored over the jazz album, soaking in the nostalgia. "I love baby marshmallows, but if you only have the big suckers, just bloop one right in mine, sure!"

Stories from Auntie Gladys. "Um...they toured, like a lot. I think it was tiresome but the only way to make bread. That's what she called money - bread! So cute. They had a bus to drive around in, she had her own space. I guess her and your Uncle Archie got along; and jazz gave them an excuse to be in small quarters together without it being improper."

[ameliaxdalton]

Amelia’s Halloween Lookbook; Movie Magic!

Having firmly established herself as one of your go-to-gals for anything popular media related on the island, Amelia isn’t straying far from her roots, but all this time being dressed up by Tamyra must’ve started to rub off on her, because she is having fun with her costumes all day long!

For most of the day you’ll find her in a familiar spot; the library, sporting an unfamiliar haircolour; blonde! She’ll be dressed up as Rollergirl from Boogienights. Maybe the wig itches a little, but she’s going to have a blast getting photos of everyone to decorate the place with.

For the party itself at the Agora Amelia will be making a much spookier entrance… As Morticia Addams! (If she offers you roses, do not accept.) She’ll be flouncing her sleeves about dramatically and being generally morose. Unless the tunes are really going, of course, then she might have to break character.

A little later into the night when night has truly fallen, and they’re all in the mood to tell spooky stories, Amelia will be swinging in as Walid’s backup! Who you gonna call? And okay, for any pedantic partygoers yeah she’s paying a little homage to the 2016 reboot too, just couldn’t pass up the chance to wear a cool pair of tinted shades– but she’s a diehard OG film fan, honest! 

[ameliaxdalton]

Ameliia sighed, overdramatic and lovelorn, sinking in her seat. "I wish." She clutched her hands to her chest, "we circled around eachother for years, he just got busier and busier and I moved to Seattle and... Ugh, anyway, we finally had enough time alone to kiss stupid, he goes to get refreshments, I blink, and..." She raises her arms, gesturing vaguely around herself.

Yeah, this place was a real barrel of laughs. "I started college in 83 and got here in 90, so yeah. Around that time. Maybe he wasn't the hottest guy in the crowd, but god he came alive when he played..." It was an easy world to waste time in, the one where she'd had a chance to see where things went with the two of them.

Unfortunately, this world demanded her attention for the moment. She watched the screen. She watched the crowd and the stringless puppet and the people disappearing. It made something in her chest feel tight. "What the fuck is this?" She breathed, trying to navigate their view to the back of the stage, "where are those people- they can't just..." This wasn't right, whatever it was. It didn't feel right. "And I mean- more to the point, what the hell is that thing? Is it a portal? Doesn't look like our portals..." Amelia's focus zipped about and she huffed, because the back of the stage was just the back of the stage. "Where-" It was elaborate trappings, all of it. A life from one cage to another. Where was theirs? "This is nuts, we can't just watch people get taken away to-- well, wherever! I'm not watching that."

Amelia bashed the control panel and huffed again, her brows furrowing as she pushed completely out of her chair and turned away from the screens. What would happen if she abandoned her shift? Some punishments she was used to, it might be worth it for the protest.

True to Emre, he asked: "Did you fuck him?" with little delicacy around Amelia's fond and bloody memory. If anything, Emre figured a good shag would only add to the fondness around the memory. But Emre's curiousity was piqued. "Go on then, what's this Dix Denny look like in his prime..." Emre slid his chair to a computer screen, in an attempt to search the files for 'The Weirdos'. "Was this before 1985?" It was more difficult to find files from before that time, Emre had learned.

Emre looked at her, feigning indignation. "I'm a worthy cause. Ames, Proper wounded you'd think otherwise of me."

But Emre had to put his search for old bands aside, because currently they were watching actual weirdos on the screen. Amelia asked the right questions, and Emre switched the feed so it played on a bigger screen. Better resolution so Emre could half-stand and lean in closer to the screen. "Erm..." he tried to find the strings. "Might be the camera's not picking it up. Look at these wankers though. Having the time of their bloody lives innit. Right. If one of them aliens kicks a boot at a girl in the audience, I'm calling it a night."

Amelia prompted the camera itself to shift, trying to find a different angle. There was no sound, so Emre and Amelia couldn't hear what was happening; but the audience's frenzy seemed to quickly calm, and then one by one, about twenty people lined up, walking up to the stage. The 'aliens' then led them each to the back of the stage, into what looked like a dark hole behind the curtains.

The rest of the audience looked on, as the twenty disappeared into the 'black hole'. Emre watched, then looked at Amelia, his eyes wide. "Bloody hell. Them lot's getting arse-probing, innit."

[ameliaxdalton]

It was her own stubborn form of resistance, dragging her feet on any technology that wasn't a requirement, trying to keep her life simple and familiar. It was sort of becoming inevitable though as the island got more crowded. "You could just like, whip one up? That's cool." She sighed, a bit bashful. "I wouldn't know how to use it so don't offer if you can't teach me how it works, but I know it'll be helpful if I want to keep on top of this place. No one else is exactly chomping at the bit to be here."

Amelia didn't really mind that, though. She liked the solitude and she like being the one who knew how this place worked. It was good to have a purpose, and be busy. Plus, anyone too strict might not like her whizzing about on her skates all the time, even if the floors were perfect for it and it make her work so much faster. "It's about a group of scientists who start a business fighting off evil ghosts and end up having to save New York. It's really funny- apparently there have been lots of recent remakes but I haven't seen those. It's a comedy sci fi, the special effects made me lose my mind back in the day."

She made a vague gesture to the shelves behind her, "we have lots of other movies though, and I like to go out finding more stuff so I'm always happy to take requests too, if there's anything you'd like. I want to try and have things that everyone can enjoy."

Walid tried not to appear visibly disappointed when Amelia shot them down. Or well, maybe not shot down completely, but enough that they didn't have a come-back. They wished people were better with machines, it would be good for them, and for the sake of humanity. For all the Tower's wisdom, they didn't have it completely figured out why not all of the people were engineers of some kind. Wouldn't that work much better for the job at hand?

The worst part of it was: Walid was certain that Amelia didn't like him, that she tended to avoid talking with him at length since... well, he wasn't sure since when, but he could guess. He didn't really have an opinion about her, he didn't have much of an opinion of most people. "I should be able to make the scanner easy enough," Walid tried.

They gave the place a look, then scratched their cheek. "What's Ghostbusters?" they asked. "Why do you think I'd like it?" Sometimes it did not work in their favour that they'd been from a Middle Eastern country and had been transported to the island before the fall of the Berlin wall (which people had told them was pretty important). They'd missed a lot of things, and they'd never showed any interested in catching up. "I haven't seen movies in a long time."

[ameliaxdalton]

"A daytime show? Like Oprah, or something?" Amelia asked, brightening a bit. Shows like that could lean a little too far into tradgedy porn, yeah, but as fair as light fair to make you forget your life they had been interesting, and still pretty new when she'd ended up on the island. "Sounds fun."

It was so disconcerting. If life had been fair, Amelia would've known Archie. She wouldn't just be staring at his name on a record sleeve, having already exhausted all the information she had about him. Jupiter had stories. And Amelia had to know where her best escape route was out of any room at all times. Life wasn't fair.

The photo. Amelia didn't know what had happened to it. Eventually all the photos her mom was in had dissapeared, abandoned over several moves. She didn't know how to do this, either. The family she'd never known was difficult to articulate to anyone. "I don't have the photo." Amelia shook her head, trying not to seem too sad, giving a sort of 'what can you do' shrug. "Great! Two hot chocoaltes, coming up." She hot stepped through to the kitchen, seperated from the living room by a perpetually open door and a colourful beaded curtain.

"Do you like marshmallows?" Amelia asked over her shoulder, already fetching mugs and coco powder and milk. Hot chocolate was a well honed ritual as part of her life here, with not a single other soul in the house to lecture her about time of day or whatever else might present an issue. "What kind of stories did your great aunt have?" She tacked on, back turned as she busied herself making the drinks, "I don't know too much about the band."

"It's true! Decades get recycled, but in different ways for different people." Jupiter clucked her tongue then, dismissing her own words. "Ohhhh look at me talking like some kinda self-help guru. You know I was warned against that, when I had my daytime show. The producers would warn me that people like perspective, but not catechisms. Leave those for Sunday church! Mm!"

Amelia seemed reluctant to see, but Jupiter was patient. She watched Amelia, until the other woman provided a name. "Arche Kozwolski, yeah," Jupiter also read the name on the band list. She pointed to the woman. "Gladys Basie - before she married and became my Great Aunt Gladys George. Oooh girl, she had stories of her time in the band. Right up until the 70s, she was still singing in little shops and bars, so my momma used to say. Momma said she got her bug for showmanship from her Auntie Gladys. I guess I did too..."

A nostalgic sigh. "So. Archie was your uncle, huh. You remember much about him? Aside from the photo...do you still have that photo with you?" It would be a miracle if Amelia did, but now Jupiter was intrigued.

And Amelia was being nice. Jupiter smiled. "Hot chocolate sounds great, thank you! Awww we can listen to this together! I'd love that, sweetie."

[ameliaxdalton]

"He was a guitarist in this band The Weirdos, used to play at this bar me and my buddies would go to- and actually no, he was in the middle of a crazy solo and kicked one of his boots off. It hit me in the nose." Amelia giggled. She'd been a few drinks in and having a blast, so it hadn't hurt as much as it could, and she'd tolerated worse pain for far less gain. Dix was a popular guy even back then, so she hadn't had his full attention the whole night, but he'd kept on finding his way back to her. Amelia wondered how long he'd looked for her after their kiss.

She dragged her mind away from thr bar, that life, and observed the gathering crowd on screen, interest admittedly piqued. "I don't know. lived on a commune, so. Probably." Even Emre had gone down the cult path, when she'd brought it up. Her gaze slid quickly back to him though, more invested in whatever could unfold infront of her here and now than the video feed. He never gave up his own pain. "I'd have to know they were going to a worthy cause."

Emre watched her and she watched him right back, entertaining the idea just for a moment in his quiet. Amelia had the feeling, though, that fooling around with him would inspire more nosiness on his part, and she wasn't keen on that. Above all else, romantic entanglements were best when they were frivolous.

So the distraction was well timed, and she wondered if the tower could do these things on purpose. "Showtime..." Amelia hummed, her humor fading very quickly. Drawn to danger that was different, she leaned forward to try and get a better look. But of course, her new enemy technology didn't bend to whims like that. "Where are the strings?" She pointed out quietly, scared and fascinated. Without turning her gaze she hit the record button, her brows furrowed. "Was this an organised event? How would you even go about that? Who's at the lighting board?" Amelia shifted in her seat to tap at some controls, trying not to shift the view too far off the creatures- were they creatures?- but wanting to peer around.

"The fuck is Dix Denney?" Emre asked between a bite of his sandwich. "You saying mate threw himself on you from stage, and what. Split your lip? Bloody hell, Ames. She likes herself an edgy badboy artist type innit." Emre settled back in his chair, blinking complacently up at the screens. Lost in some memory. "Reckon I do too, yeah. Not the celebrities sort. But a bit of naughty blood never harmed no one."

He pointed her attention to one screen, where it looked like an audience was gathering in front of a stage. What would appear on the stage, Emre didn't know; hopefully the screen wouldn't blip to some other camera beforehand. "Trust, luv. Not big on CCTV either. Drones, innit." A lot of the feeds on the screens looked like drone footage. Emre could tell, and his mouth screwed in bitterness. "You ever been spied on by the government? I've been."

He shook his head, deflected the question. "You've likely got loads of teleport points racked up, I'd wager. If you was ever in a giving mood..." Emre motioned to himself.

He smirked, watching Amelia go off on the intricacies of what did and did not get her hot and bothered. His smile faded to something a bit more intense; his black gaze dipped to her mouth - that supple, glossy roundness shaped around each of her words. Emre's eyes flicked back up to meet and hold Amelia's - it wasn't like he was undressing her with his eyes, so much as finding a darkly lit window under her heavy-lidded stare. To open that window a bit wider, just enough to slip under her skin.

Sudden movement in his periphery caught Emre's attention. The screen with the stage and audience was suddenly flooded with lights, and Emre sat up, leaning forward in his seat. He slowly dialed knobs on the control board, to adjust the screen's setting. "The fuck is..." Emre murmured, squinting at the stage - then falling back with a yelp.

"Look!" Emre pointed, looking from Amelia to the screen. "You seeing what I'm seeing?!" The light had faded; the audience was in a frenzy. On the stage: tiny skinny creatures materialized. Their giant bald heads and oversized black eyes, they bobbed around with their arms outspread like they were trying to calm the audience. "Puppets. Is got to be puppets, yeah. We've got to record this one."

[ameliaxdalton]

Amelia never ran out of jobs to do at the library, but since she was the boss and only employee she could take a break to catch up on her own reading or grab a bite to eat whenever she wanted. Right now saw her doing the former, lounging in the seat behind the desk with the usual scatter of files set to one side while she read, with some Bent Knee playing quietly over the speakers through the foyer.

She didn't glance up at first when the doors swished open, but dogeared her page and set the book aside when they came towards her desk. "Hi Amy." She chuckled, "I'm Amelia. Always nice to see a new face. And no, you don't need a membership card. You can look around and borrow whatever you like, just make sure to stop back here and let me know what you're taking out. If you have any questions or want to find something specific just ask."

Location: Library Starter for: @ameliaxdalton

❛ Oh, wow, ❜ Amy said to herself, a little surprised by the size of the building in front of her. She had expected the library to be more like the ones in Montpelier, Vermont. Compactly built, kept in good shape, but a little under-resourced perhaps compared to the sheer amount of media you could find on the internet or in really big libraries like the ones belonging to a university. This library right here, however, is bigger than any library she has ever seen.

Amy enters the building and finds herself now standing in a relatively small but well-lit and welcoming entrance area, including an information counter with a young woman behind it. She makes her way over and proactively introduces herself with a friendly smile:

❛ Hi, I'm Amy. Can I just, go in and look around? Or do I need a membership card or something like that? ❜