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''' | <big>'''Adrift'''</big> | ||
'''In-universe date:''' Era Nova, March--April, Year 1 | |||
'''In-universe date:''' Era Nova, March-April, Year 1 | |||
'''Real-world date:''' 31 July 2026 | '''Real-world date:''' 31 July 2026 | ||
'''Author:''' [[The Fool]] | '''Author:''' [[The Fool]] | ||
---- | |||
The boat rocked gently, adrift on water gone the color of dusk and fog, indistinguishable from sky at the horizon. | |||
Somewhere beneath layers of black and red fabric, a man slept, slumped against the side of a boat that clearly wasn't built with comfort in mind. One arm hung loose over the edge, fingers just barely skimming the surface with each drift of the current. | |||
He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He was fairly sure of that much, in the dim, half-formed way a person is sure of anything right after waking up somewhere they don't recognize. | |||
The last clear thing he remembered was rowing, hard, putting as much water as possible between himself and everything he'd left in a hurry. | |||
After that, nothing. Just water, and sky, and however long it had actually been. | |||
In the distance, something broke the fog, faint spires, a huddle of rooftops, the ghost of a skyline he didn't recognize. | |||
Too far off to call it anywhere yet, but it was somewhere. And wherever it was, it sure as hell wasn't home. | |||
He | He stirred, blinked hard against the pale light, and pushed himself upright with the particular disorientation of a man who has genuinely no idea what country he's currently disappointing. | ||
> "...huh," he muttered to no one. "That's new." | |||
[[Category:Character News]] | [[Category:Character News]] | ||
[[Category:The Fool]] | |||
[[Category:Era Nova, Year 1]] | |||
[[File:Adrift.png|right|frameless|721x721px]] | |||
Revision as of 21:06, 13 August 2026
Adrift
In-universe date: Era Nova, March--April, Year 1
Real-world date: 31 July 2026
Author: The Fool
The boat rocked gently, adrift on water gone the color of dusk and fog, indistinguishable from sky at the horizon.
Somewhere beneath layers of black and red fabric, a man slept, slumped against the side of a boat that clearly wasn't built with comfort in mind. One arm hung loose over the edge, fingers just barely skimming the surface with each drift of the current.
He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He was fairly sure of that much, in the dim, half-formed way a person is sure of anything right after waking up somewhere they don't recognize.
The last clear thing he remembered was rowing, hard, putting as much water as possible between himself and everything he'd left in a hurry.
After that, nothing. Just water, and sky, and however long it had actually been.
In the distance, something broke the fog, faint spires, a huddle of rooftops, the ghost of a skyline he didn't recognize.
Too far off to call it anywhere yet, but it was somewhere. And wherever it was, it sure as hell wasn't home.
He stirred, blinked hard against the pale light, and pushed himself upright with the particular disorientation of a man who has genuinely no idea what country he's currently disappointing.
> "...huh," he muttered to no one. "That's new."
