#this is a filler exploring the behaviour of the character. not much happens plotwise tbh. had fun with it and thats what matters

[ritens]

[wf] Nothing Is As It Was 2. The New Blank Page

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“Is this real?” He asks the only question that comes to mind.

There’s something wet and slightly sharp scraping his cheek. Leander pushes it away instinctively, thinking he’d been asleep for so long that the doppelgangers are already having a go at his flesh. However, the curious “murrp!” causes him to drop the idea on the spot.

He opens his eyes and sees the sun rays lean through the branches of tall trees above him. He feels the grass on which he is laying and even hears tree leaves rattle in the wind. There also seems to be a trickling stream of water nearby. The scene seems surreal. It pushes him to sit up and have a better look around. But then the kavat plants itself down right in front of him, purposefully blocking the view.

“As real as it gets.” The feline replies. “Listen, the threads of time are thin and there is much you should know.”

The kavat waits for a pained exhale then continues. “This is the Earth of a parallel time. You are mortal here, and a war has recently concluded in the Origin System. I suggest you lay low while you figure out how things work.”

Leander nods. The kavat then stands up and circles around the man thoughtfully. It’s difficult to condense all the important information in a few sentences but an attempt has to be made.

“So the ship as you know it is gone. Your cousin Ria is also long gone.”

“A war?” the man mouths in disbelief, then lets out a nervous chuckle. “You’ve brought me here to die permanently?”

“Would remaining in the timeloop be better? Anyway, we are even now.” The feline stops circling the man to boop him on the cheek with its nose. Leander dares to touch the animal and strokes its surprisingly silky fur. He notices existential particles shift within the kavat like a water current, and this is when the realization hits him, that his mysterious savior might indeed have maybe a few minutes of life left.

“Who are you?” he finally asks.

“My name is Goere. We were friends in this timeline.” Goere introduces herself.

“Thank you, Goere.” Leander whispers as he gently pats the kavat between the ears. His hand goes through her.

Goere steps away from Leander. Both of them make note of Goere’s now rapidly disappearing form. And neither of them know what to do about it.

“Don’t be a hero, Leander. Stay in your Lane.” she says.

They stare at one another in uncomfortable silence, and in less than a minute the kavat fades into a sea green mass of energy before she ceases to exist entirely.

Just a moment later Leander shoots up to his feet and begins pacing back and forth. He is on Earth, a war has just ended but there are remnants of it, whatever they may be. He has free will, he can do whatever he wants now, but he has no idea what he wants, doesn’t know what he should be doing.

Before the man has the chance to really overthink it, the sound of running water manages to grasp his attention. It’s the stream nearby. He could try getting rid of the grime as a start. In the colosseum all he could do was get filthy. He is foul in every sense of the word. But he could fix it now that it’s an option.

Leander traipses through the forest in the direction of the source of water. He makes sure to touch every tree he passes by as though there’s a chance that everything might be fake after all. Instead the trunks of the trees are solid, the bark textured. Earth is magnificent. What a wonderful second first impression.

The body of water turns out to be bigger than he had expected. It’s not a quick little stream running through the rocks, rather a calm and steady river path. 

The man walks down to the bank of the river. Once within reach of water, he pulls off his well worn gloves, and squats down to touch the surface of the water. Chilly but not unpleasant. Good enough. He proceeds to peel off the layers of armor and clothing on him, and thinks about giving those a rinse as well.

The next hour he spends by sitting in the water with all of his ragged belongings. Occasionally he attempts to touch one of the small amphibian creatures surrounding him. Peculiar!

Once sufficiently clean, the man finally gets out of the river. Not without wrinkled fingers and blue lips, of course. He is feeling uncomfortable but refreshed at the same time. And somehow that is still one of the best things he has experienced so far.

The skies above are turning gray with clouds, and the mood shifts. A not so distant snap of twigs makes the ambience of the woods quite unfriendly. Leander then realizes that maybe satiating his need for some kind of hygiene wasn’t the smartest idea. He pays extra attention to the sounds of the area as he wrings out his soaking wet pieces of clothing. Then he throws on the bare minimum of the still insufficiently dry clothes, and runs toward a bunch of fallen trees to hide. One of the tree trunks turns out to be hollow and that’s where he crawls in to take cover.

There are footsteps and the occasional verbal exchange of incoherent words nearing Leander’s location. He listens to how the feet sink into the moss. Slow and heavy. They’re definitely bigger beings than him.

When they’re a good distance away, Leander peeks out of the hollow trunk of the tree to take a look at these beings. They turn out to be brute men dressed in dusty rags similar to that of his own. There’s odd golden bowls stuck to their faces, likely a design of the Orokin. Maybe it’s now possible to comfortably eat without using one's hands. Levitating telepathy bowls? But how could anyone see anything with a bowl in their face like that. Is it really a viable multitasking method?

Before he could continue pondering the meaning of the golden food bowls, one of the burly men turns around to glance in his direction and Leander ducks back into his hiding spot. They don’t look friendly and he’s not about to test that theory by being in their line of sight.

He continues to sit in the trunk near motionlessly if not for the shivers caused by the cold stick of the still wet clothes wrapping his person.

There’s something falling from the sky by now. Water. Rain. He sighs and furrows his brows. The rain acts as a layer of noise reduction and Leander is certain it's likely safe enough for him to get back out in the fray to collect the remainder of his belongings.

The man makes his way back to the riverbank. He puts on his thick chest armor and boots, then straps everything in place with a number of belts. He can’t remember how he obtained any of these things. It feels as though he was born wearing melee combat gear. But it doesn’t make sense. Suddenly he shakes his head again.

“Stop. Stop circling. We need to focus on the situation at hand. Which is… uh.“ Leander attempts to talk some sense into himself but quickly comes to the conclusion that there is no basis for this so-called ‘sense’. All thoughts then cease and he stares blankly ahead.

After standing still for a minute, he lifts a hand to his chin and thinks out loud “I should probably find a safe enough location to sleep in.”

“Somewhere with a roof.” He glances up at the gray sky. Rain immediately hits him in the eyes and he turns his face back down. It’s probably afternoon now. He’s not entirely sure what the current season could be, nor when the sun sets. The sooner he starts looking for a potential camping spot the better.

Walking along the river seems like an idea. Whether it’s a good or a bad one remains to be seen, but for now it’s an idea that Leander is going with. He treks in the same direction where the men with the golden bowls had gone, against the river’s flow.

The skies become increasingly darker with each hour, the clouds hiding any indication of a sunset but Leander continues walking. Now and then the man stops to stare at any animal that happens to cross his path. And starts sprinting when a vasca kavat comes at him hissing with bared fangs. Goere may have been snappy but at least she had good intentions. This one, however, has Leander return to being the prey.

He dashes through the rain deeper into the darkness of the forest, away from the river. He jumps over fallen trees, dodges low hanging branches, and ignores the sting of prickly bushes and oversized nettles which he may have brushed against in his rush. The feral kavat is relentless still, and evades all obstacles with relative ease.

At one point he runs through something like a makeshift fence, past a familiar golden sheen. He glances back to have a better look. It’s the burly men from earlier, now lying dead in the forest moss, wisps of red energy flowing out of their bodies. Moreso, he appears to be moving on a well worn and recently used path.

Leander stops.

He witnesses the kavat let out a harsh, piercing cry right as it reaches the dead bodies. Then it keels over seemingly from nothing.

The man continues walking backwards as he reaches for the swords holstered on his back, only to remember not packing them there in the first place. His blades remain at the river bed where he had gone for a swim.

“Horrible.” He mutters, turns around, and is knocked out cold by an unexpected fist to his temple. The last thing he sees are two red eyes staring down at him.

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