( #001 )

[brainiest]

Who: Hermione Granger and you!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva, baby
When: From now until shuffle!

[ When she wakes up, the first thing that's obvious to her is that this is not her house; it's nothing like it, and that's more than enough to have her drop her hands to her hip - where, again, there's nothing familiar. The next stop is around her neck and it's obvious that she finds some comfort there, her fingers sliding around a ring before she breathes out and moves to sit up. At least some things are familiar, and she recognises a video feed when she sees it, lifting her free hand to push her hair out of her eyes. ]

Well, this isn't the Drabwurld, is it.

[ She sounds remarkably put out about it, shifting to stand and adjust her weight, her fingers finally dropping away from the ring around her neck. It's only then that she really looks into her feed, wondering if it worked just like the lockets did - and, at the same time, wondering if she ought to be afraid. Considering the number of worlds and things she saw and went through in the Drabwurld, however, she thinks that it'll take a little more than this to put her on edge, even without her weapons. ]

I don't suppose anyone here has heard of Nimh Gleanne? Leathann? ... Anything like that?

[ There's a kind of awkward hopefulness in her voice as she tries to smile, the scar on her cheek shifting with her lips. ]

Anyone?

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[experiencepoints]

[It's a good thing she's not recording just yet, because when Nightingale spots her teammate's face, she nearly falls out of her chair in shock.

On the other hand, there are signs that this isn't the one she knew. That scar, those words... Those weren't from the castle, Rosella didn't have those. But seeing a familiar face, she misses all of that, sending a video message right away.]

Rosella! Did you just arrive? Are you still on the Marsiva?

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[brainiest]

[ Hermione pauses, startled, for a moment, before she stops and shakes her head. She's seen this before, plastered all over the lockets back in the Drabwurld - mistaken identities, people forgetting and remembering things... This must be the case here, as well, and a part of her feels a pang of sympathy. ]

No, I'm sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else. My name is Hermione.

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[experiencepoints]

[... Oh. She can't hide her face falling when she realizes what's going on, but...]

... Yeah. Granger, right?

[enshields]

[It's been so long since he's heard any spoken Irish, he actually sort of stares at this message for a while before he flicks his communicator on to reply. Then, at length,]

Miss.

[A respectful nod. He's still a bit thrown, because Irish belongs to a part of him that's ages old and buried in ice.]

I know the words individually-- but if you're speaking of a specific place ['valley of poison'] then I'll be of no help.

[brainiest]

[ Miss.

One word is enough to make Hermione stop and stare into her feed, hands shaking a little before she swallows. She knows the voice, but the formality - it's all the information she needs to let her know that this man, this replica of the one she had known... Isn't the one that had known her. This wasn't her friend, the one she had danced with, fought with, teased, and the sting in her heart makes her stop to breathe in, long and deep, before she can even think about responding.

All she knows now is that she's going to have to be careful, and it makes her feel even worse. ]

Thank you all the same. I wasn't expecting too many people to know them, but - it means a lot that you even replied.

[enshields]

[Something tips her hand. He can't say what, exactly, but the slight shift in her demeanor from her post to her reply-- to him, specifically, makes him realize something's amiss. He wonders if he's said something to wound or offend her.]

I'm sorry.

[Apology is not a natural state of existence for Steve Rogers. As someone who only ever does and says things he means and can continue meaning even in the face of adversity, he rarely feels justified in giving them. But something about her prompts the words, and his brow furrows.]

My name's Steve Rogers. If you- have any other questions about where we are, I'd be happy to try and help.

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[steeledskin]

[ her hair is dark and her eyes are filled with -- what? hesitation. the very outer edges of an unexpressed fear. sansa sits stiffly in sight of her communications device.

her voice is soft. ] They are beautiful words, my lady. What do they mean?

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[brainiest]

[ Hermione freezes.

She stops. She stares. Even the gentle my lady means more to her than she can put into words and it hurts to think that, maybe, Sansa doesn't remember these places. Surely she had visited Nimh Gleanne, surely she had seen how beautiful Leathann was - but she had been the Lady of the Cothromach...

Either way, if Sansa Stark remembered the Drabwurld she would remember those names. Right? ]

They're, um, places. From the world I'm from.

[ The Drabwurld became her home, after all. ]

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[steeledskin]

Can you say them again? Please? One time?

[ there is a girlish curiousity that lingers in her tone. somehow, she's not as stricken and trembling as she once was upon her first arrival within the fleet. she has brothers and (on her better days) friends.

and the names sound like music. ]

[flickerflash]

[Innteresting. Katie's never heard of the Drabwurld, though it sounds frighteningly dreary-- but combined with Leathann and Nihm Gleanne, one word she's familiar with and the expression she can place, it sounds...

...kind of like her thing.]

What sort of places are those?

[The speaker is young and also British. West country, by the sounds.]

[brainiest]

[ The accent is almost soothingly familiar and Hermione brightens, shifting to lean forward, more than happy to explain. She's a stranger in a new place all over again but some things never fade away - and lecture mode is one of them for her. ]

They're places from where I came from. Nimh Gleanne was a little town with beautiful houses and a nice trading centre. Leathann was an island that was enchanted with a great deal of magic and became - well, a floating island.

[ The Drabwurld was somewhat... Complicated. ]

[flickerflash]

Oh! They sound very pretty.

[Magic is involved. She can't resist asking, because she's very curious and a little envious and not particularly wise:] Did you have a silver road, too? Could you travel anywhere you want?

[audio]

[thebarkside]

[ SHE'S GOING TO BE EXCITED, sue her. ]

Hermione! Does the name 'Asgard' mean anything to you at all?

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[brainiest]

[ WELL, that is excitement. Hermione blinks before she shakes her head. ]

No, I don't. Do you remember me from there...?

[ Another one, she thinks. Apparently, she's gotten around. ]

[audio]

[thebarkside]

Yeah, I do. I was actually pretty good friends with some other people from your world, too.

[ she manages to sound chipper, here, not wistful. it takes some effort, but it happens. ]

But it's okay! This sort of thing happens. It's nice to hear from you again, regardless.

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[theshabbiestofmen]

[He offers a smile-- it ought to be a familiar smile, at least, if not a bit younger than she's used to.]

Sorry, no, but-- people come in waves, and simply because they're not here now doesn't mean they won't be here later. I'm Remus Lupin-- it's nice to meet you.

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[brainiest]

[ Instinct has Hermione reaching up to touch the scarring along her jawline - three rather short scratches, permanent and white, the kind that might be obvious to Remus - werewolf scars. They were given to her by him but not him at the same time and Hermione feels something curl inside of her as she forces her hand away.

The last time she saw him she had sent him home to his son. Now... Now he's young, maybe even younger than she is, and it hurts. ]

It's nice to meet you too, Remus. [ She tries her best to smile. ] I'm Hermione Granger. Thank you, for telling me.

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[heavenonearth]

[ cas is just returning from the cafeteria, wrapped sandwich in hand, when he passes by; so this really is a thing, isn't it? people just.. popping in, unannounced, inexplicably.

experiencing it is one thing, but seeing it with your own eyes is another. the hospitality deck is only so big, and he's definitely not yet seen her face. ]

That's, uh.. a mouthful. [ a thoughtful squint. ] Gaelic? That language was always too much of a tongue twister.

[brainiest]

[ She almost jumps, her hand drifting, again, to her hip before she shakes her head and moves to stand up. Even if she's in a strange and rather... Odd new place she knows that she can be polite and that's what makes her smile. ]

I think it has origins in Gaelic - or Gaelic had origins there. The Drabwurld was always a little complicated.

[ Stepping forward, she holds out her hand. ]

Hermione Granger.

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[reconstitution]

None of those are familiar, sorry.

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[brainiest]

Thank you anyway! I appreciate that you took the time.

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[stefanged]

I wish I had, sorry.

[Stefan pauses, his gaze falling down towards the locket she had been holding. It's impolite to stare, but it was what first caught his eye.]

I also wish I could tell you what galaxy we're in right now, but even that seems to be hard to obtain.

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[brainiest]

[ If he looks closer, he'll note there are quite a handful of things around her neck - charms, pendants, an engagement ring, all of it hanging there without making too much noise. Hermione, at least, doesn't notice his gaze. ]

So I've heard. I wish I could say I wasn't used to getting half-answers, but...

[ At least she can smile wryly. ]

Thank you anyway, for telling me.

[Video]

[misterprongs]

[ HI HERMIONE IT'S THAT GUY WHO LOOKS JUST LIKE YOUR BEST FRIEND ]

Drabwurld?

[ curious, eyes bright. ]

Can't say I have, but you're on board the Marsiva now.

[brainiest]

[ Last time she saw Harry he had lost one of his eyes, so she's more than happy to see this version - until she realises who it is.

Someone save her. ]

That's, um. The world I was in, before I came to this one. Think a Medieval, fairy-tale sort of place.

[ This is the most awkward thing in the world someone help her - ]

I'll get to leave soon, though, right? To another ship?