Open Action - Arrival

[onemanhurricane]

He would never admit it, but Alexander needed a break.

He set his pen down on his desk and removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and alleviate the pressure that sat in the center of his head. The candle that Eliza had set beside him earlier that evening had burned down almost to the stub, the flame flickering wildly and throwing shadows over the essay he was writing. His words were starting to bleed into one another on the page, barely legible in proper light let alone in the fading glow of a dying candle. That was probably the source of his headache. In any case, he needed to clear his head before finishing. A late night snack and some fresh air would reset his senses.

Alexander slipped his glasses into a pocket in his trousers as he stood and blew the candle out. In hindsight, a poor decision this late at night. On the way to the kitchen, he stubbed his toe on the couch and tripped over one of Philip's toys. Swearing under his breath, he sincerely hoped he didn't wake the children, especially little Alex Jr. The baby was a challenge to put to bed, and Eliza would have his head if he woke him. After pausing and listening to the stillness of the house, Alexander sighed silently in relief and picked his way to his destination. He plucked the last apple from the bowl on the table and walked to the back door. A stroll in the garden at night would do him well.

He had almost missed the mysterious door that had suddenly appeared on a previously blank wall. Alexander strolled right past it.

And then slowly...stepped...back...in front of it.

The first thought that crossed his brain was, "Huh, that's strange."

The second was, "Why is there an additional door in my house?"

He stood staring at the door, fiddling with his apple while contemplating whether to open it or pretend it wasn't there. It was late. He ought to finish the essay he was writing and join Eliza in bed. He should do that. But his curiosity was slowly getting the better of his common sense. He wouldn't be able to sleep until he figured out what lay beyond the strange door.

Beyond the threshold was soft sands and a cool, gentle breeze. The roll of the waves was calming and reminiscent of his childhood in the Caribbean. It was inviting. Strangely so. He stepped through the door, his boot sinking down in the sand. In the distance, he could see the lights of a small town.

Alexander fully stepped through and closed the door behind him. He needed to know more about this place, and he wouldn't be satisfied until he had explored it.

Comments

[preemptiveforgiveness]

Insomnia was something Matt often struggled with. His senses made it difficult to sleep and while he had adjusted to the quiet of this place, he still missed the buzz of New York City.

When Alexander comes walking down the beach, he'll find Matt barefoot on the beach wearing a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved tee shirt. He'd heard the man coming and stopped, head tilted in Alexander's direction. It's not entirely unusual for people to be roaming the city at night so he doesn't think much about it. When he gets closer, he'll nod a little in greeting, not speaking because he doesn't want to disturb the man if he's lost in some sort of thought. His body language isn't closed off though. He's certainly open to conversation.

[onemanhurricane]

The salt on the breeze was invigorating and Alexander's headache seeped out of him with every exhalation. He glanced up at the moon, then out onto the gently lapping waves. The place had a quiet and relaxing beauty. It was a shame that he did not think to grab a sheaf of paper on his way through the door. The ocean makes the perfect amount of noise to keep the silence dynamic instead of ponderous, lulling one to sleep. He could do plenty of writing on a night like this.

As he made his way down the coast, a small smudge on the sand gradually filled out into the form of a man. To Alexander, the man was drastically underdressed, and had strange glasses. Instead of clear lenses, like in his own spectacles, they were dark. Clearly, he wasn't someplace familiar, and certainly not his home in New York. When the man nods, Alexander grins in a friendly manner and waves. After a beat, noticing the mans' lack of reaction, he falters, realizing the man is blind.

"Excuse me, sir!" Alexander calls out as he strolls closer. "Do you have a moment? I seem to have found myself far from home. Can you tell me where I am?"

[preemptiveforgiveness]

Matt had never been to the ocean before he arrived here, but he'd found it incredibly relaxing and conducive to thinking as well. Alexander could likely find a nice Adirondack chair somewhere nearby so that he could have a place to sit while he wrote.

For Matt's time, he's only slightly underdressed and the glasses were more for other's comfort than his own. Many people found it disconcerting to look at his unfocused eyes. Matt knows the man is coming closer, but not that he's waving and he doesn't want to interrupt if Alexander is enjoying a quiet walk. When Alexander speaks, he turns his head toward him and smiles.

Ah. A new arrival.

"Of course," Matt says, turning more toward him. "You're in a place called Itinere. If you turn back, you might have some luck opening the door and being able to walk back into your world, but I can't promise that." He holds his hand out to shake. "I'm Matt Murdock."

[makeslouder]

Even if Gansey doesn't like it when Blue wanders out at night, it's an argument that he knows he'll never win. Blue is too stubborn, too much of a feminist, to actually listen to her boyfriend whenever he objects to something she does. Anyway, he knows how much she likes the night stars and how much she misses Noah right now. Walking at night helps curb her grief. The stars twinkling in the night sky, albeit different than the ones she grew up with in Henrietta, help. It's the tir e e'lintes in her; she knows that now. Her love of the night sky is a trait she inherited from her father.

Blue isn't so distracted, however, not to notice Hamilton as he walks out of the door. It's his manner of dress that catches her attention first. Like he forgot to change after work at Williamsburg (not that Blue's ever been to that part of Virginia). Regardless, it's a stark contrast from her own patchwork skirt that falls to her knee and grey sweatshirt. Still, Blue is a sensible kind of thing and not prone to making rash judgements.

So when she gets close enough, her short hair ruffled by the wind, she asks in a soft drawl, "Are you new here?"

[onemanhurricane]

That accent sounds so familiar....it sets Alexander on edge. Perhaps debating with Madison and Jefferson (or arguing, rather. Alexander could swear those two opposed him simply to vex him...) has ingrained in him an inherent bias against Southerners...Virginians in particular, though Washington holds a special exemption in his head.

He turned to the young woman and is momentarily startled by her lack of dress. Like a cad, his gaze wanders to her exposed knees and ankles, then back up to her face. He flushes with embarrassment. The girl looks younger than Eliza was on their wedding day! And here he was, scandalized by her ankles.

"I do apologize, miss," he states, thinking she must have caught his wandering eyes. "I'm not accustomed to underdressed women wandering beaches in the middle of the night." He gave her a polite bow, extending a hand in greeting. "Alexander Hamilton, at your service, miss. I seem to be far from home."

[makeslouder]

He speaks just in the nick of time. Blue had been seconds away from calling the man out for the way he looks her over. It's different when Gansey does it, mostly because Gansey's her boyfriend and she expects him to appreciate the way she looks. He does tend to be particularly fond of her bare legs; a reason for showing them off while the weather is still good.

She's definitely not doing it however to have a stranger flush from embarrassment after looking her over. Even with his apology, her irritation remains clear. Blue's eyes remain narrowed and her arms cross over her chest. She also ignores his hand; manners are overrated sometimes. "Undressed women?"

The rest will sink in shortly. Then it'll be her turn to apologize.

[averygoodshot]

There are few who would disagree that there is comfort to be found in that eye of a hurricane. The silence, the yellow sky. Granted, in Paris, there are no hurricanes, but there have been a few storms and their destruction is always prefaced or followed by that eerie quiet.

Interestingly enough, Hamilton's garb doesn't seem that strange to a Musketeer, dressed in leather from his hat to his boots, though of course, it is Aramis's assumption that here there be an aristocrat. New money, perhaps, but who is Aramis to judge?

"Monsieur," he says as he sees the man in the street after dark. "Is all well?" For that confusion of a potential new arrival is hard to miss. He and Porthos still take to patrolling more often than not, and this is one of the times where they are only briefly separated.