Walking the Beat

Ada felt kind of bland. She had spent a lot of her time in doors, trying to figure out the mysterious occurrence she had encountered on her trips through time. More than once, she had gone back to the site of the impact and explosion, and more than once, she had to struggle with the increased gravity. In fact, before she was within a hundred feet of the scorched earth, Adalia felt the gentle tug on her metallic arm.

So, investigating the area was impossible, without some sort of help, unless she had her robot arm removed. And, since she felt she'd rather not sit through the pain of testing nerves again, the robot arm would stay connected. She just needed to avoid large magnetic fields.

Where else could she go? Theron hadn't been seen since his house imploded, and Ghent hadn't found Jad, either. All had been quiet for several days, and if it wasn't for the fact that everyone was all right, Ada would have been suspicious. How long would she have to wait and wonder? When would the situation finally be clarified, or would she be facing years without another answer?

A quiet sigh escaped her, as she paced the length of her bedroom. Ada hadn't even really bothered making herself look decent. Sure, her hair was mostly under control, but that was because it spent the majority of it's time hiding under the hood of one of Ghent's sweaters she'd stolen out of the dryer. And, as she paced, her steps made a strange sound, since her feet were bare, but her cotton pajama pants were too long, causing her to half step on the cuffs.

What could they do? Ghent believed that Theron had truly left the pictures on accident. If it wasn't a trap, then they might have an advantage, if they knew where to go to stop it all.

"The intersection for you is here..."

The voice echoed in her head, and she stepped up to her window and stopped to look out. The Hills were dark -- the moon was hidden, except the faint glow behind the curtain of high gray clouds. The pale lighting reminded Ada of the man who had talked to her -- his white hair had been the color of the mood, and seemed to shine against all of the other white. But his eyes... they had been like Ghent's. There had been no mistaking the near absolute contrast between dark and light.

So, what did it all mean?

Adalia grabbed the stack of papers she had been looking at all night. They were official papers, with broken wax seals and logos embossed in that parchment. Some of them contained interesting ideas, but most of them were fairly useless and were mostly filled with here-say. But, for the most part, the papers just sort of made Ada wonder. How different could things have been?

Her eyes looked over the signatures at the bottom of the document, and she sighed again. It really made no difference if she thought about it. It made no difference if she didn't. It was just there, nestled safely somewhere between fact and fiction. As she passed her vanity, the papers were slid out of her robot hand, and then onto the polished wood surface like they were nothing more than a stack of junk letters.

Once more, Ada moved back to her window and looked out onto th grounds. Her intersection was there. Her family was there. Everything she really needed was there, as long as she could keep a grip on it. But that wasn't always easy.

She just felt so bland. And worn thin at so many thoughts of time-travel and kidnapping. But she knew what the ethereal man had been trying to tell her -- Ada knew why the intersection had been for her parents and godfather, and not her. She hadn't seen it, but she knew... she just knew.

They had met there, on a warm spring morning. Flynn had gone there first -- to the very same clearing that Ada had performed her first portal experiment. Flynn had come alone, and it had been that day that Theron had showed up for the meeting with Evelyn on his arm. Once, Theron had managed to have his prize, but that had been the day when the seed of doubt had been planted. Flynn had set himself to getting Evelyn on that day, and eventually his plans paid off.

But that didn't make life any easier for their daughter, who had to deal with the aftermath

She glanced at the papers on the vanity as she paced past, and another sigh escaped her. Ada went to the window, glanced out, and then she moved over to her bed to get her bare feet up off of the cold, hardwood. Her hand reached up to turn off the ceiling light, leaving the room comfortably dimmed for her.

Eventually, they would solve the problem. Eventually, she wouldn't feel so worried, or sad, or bland. Everything worked out, eventually.

((This is written for play on January 24, 2008. For more information or questions, send a PM or e-mail to Adalia Dodd.))

Everything felt lonely and quiet. Everything felt out of place.

Ada wasn't sure why, but she was outside. She could feel the grass between her toes, and there was a warm breeze blowing through her hair. Reality seemed askew. She knew that she had went to bed on a cold night, snuggled close to Ghent -- she knew she had been home, and safe. Was it possible she was dreaming? No, was it possible that she wasn't dreaming?

Squinting into the low light, she tried her best to pick out where she had ended up, but Ada was faced with nothing more than a long stretch of rolling grassland, peppered with silhouetted trees. It felt like summer to her -- there was no chill on her skin, even though the sun was down and she was still in her nightgown. She could hear bird chirping distantly, so she guessed it was morning. It was almost surreal.

Almost instinctively, Ada reached up and rubbed at her arms, unsure of what she was doing in the middle of no where. Once more, she looked around, noting that light was starting to creep into the horizon. The grass between her feet felt soft and dry, and seemed to urge her to move. Once step, then a second... she felt like she was being drawn somewhere, though she couldn't even guess where it would be.

"Hello?" She called out into the darkness as she headed for sunrise, but no one seemed to answer. Nearby, some rather vocal birds quieted when she called out, but almost immediately began chirping again, like they had decided there was no point in answering her.

Alone... she was definitely alone. She could feel it, deep down inside, tugging and pulling and telling her -- she couldn't deny it.

As she made her way across the field, Ada marveled at how real everything felt -- she couldn't remember a dream ever being so vivid. The breeze swept around her, moving the nightgown against her skin, leaving waves of goosebumps in its wake. The grass tickled her feet with every step.

And yet, she couldn't stop. She felt drawn to something, but wasn't sure what it could be. Her dreams didn't usually work like that; normally, she wasn't even aware she was dreaming. This time, though... there was no doubting it.

Her apprehension grew with each step she took towards the horizon. If anything, she just wished that she was back home in bed, but even telling herself that didn't seem to make any difference. She couldn't force herself awake, and she couldn't force herself to stop. In fact, she was even beginning to consider that maybe she wasn't dreaming, and instead was an unwilling participant in some sort of plot. If she was dreaming, then she should have been able to stop herself.

Ahead, she could see the crest of a larger hill, with a lone tree standing tall over the horizon. From her perspective, it seemed like she was moving straight for it, and instead of trying to slow herself down, she took longer strides, hoping to get wherever faster. Maybe then the dream would be over quicker.

With each quick step, she could feel her heart speeding up, and her breathing followed suit. She felt like running -- felt like getting away before it was too late, but had no clue what "too late" was. Lonely, lost, confused...

The wind died down nearly instantly, followed quickly by the chirping of the birds. Everything was suddenly so still and quiet, that Ada was certain she was the only thing moving for miles -- maybe forever. And, as she took the last few steps to the top of the hill, she could suddenly see over the crest. More rolling hills greeted her, and suddenly she recognized where she was. Apparently, her dreamy travels had returned her to the place where the earth had been so suddenly scorched, and she could tell that she was approaching from the opposite direction than normal.

And, suddenly, as she put a hand on the tree at the top of the hill, she didn't want to advance anymore. This was where she was supposed to be.

Still, silent, lonely... white.

There was nothing but white, blinding and hot. She could still feel the tree under her hand, but it was too bright to see. Too bright, too white, too hot, and for the minuscule moment she had, all she could do was wish and hope it was just a dream.

((Yes, it's a dream. This is written for play on February 2, 2008. For more information or questions, send a PM or e-mail to Adalia Dodd.))