Xabier Sanchez's Story

The woman with the scar retreated into the house with the man’s half-smoked cigar crumpled at the bottom of a delicate porcelain dish. She handled the saucer with a rough familiarity. The man shifted on his weight, wincing a bit at the small flirty smile that punctuated the red head girl’s coarse disregard of his suggestion to ask questions later. He placed his hands behind his back and stood straight, a pose reminiscent of a high military official with far too much influence.

“My name is Haru, this is my farm,” he began. His voice was crisp and clear, every sentence he spoke held an air of old authority and legitimacy, something that didn’t match his youthful appearance. He spoke like an old king but looked like a fun-loving prince. “You’re in a very faraway place from where this chaos began. But I truly believe that these questions are best answered sitting down.”

The young man perked up to an interruption from an unfamiliar voice with a very familiar accent.

“And bandage too, please?”

Haru tilted his chip up and appraised the warrior through hooded eyes. “Yes,” he said calmly. “I’m sure some of you need bandaging too.” He turned to the men in the field, who had since set their tools in the high grass. “Scout out the injured and take them to the back to have their wounds cleaned and tended to.” They immediately obeyed, scanning the group for open wounds so that they could help hoist them up and escort them to the infirmary for a quick patch.

“For the rest of you, please, come in. We have plenty of bed space.” Haru stepped to the side, clearing a path for the ragtag group. The woman with the scar came out of the house and back onto the porch. She nodded approvingly at the group, encouraging them to step forward.

Tallyho, being so close to the front of the group, felt obliged to step forward first. She looked around, paranoid that if she moved too slowly two men would grab her arms and hoist her up the stairs. She moved carefully, making it to the porch without any further “assistance.”

She wasn’t drawn to the porch in the same way that she was drawn to the light. Back in that space, she unquestionably trusted that what she was about to do was the right thing. This time, such certainty was foreign to her. She didn’t go into the house because it felt like a safe haven, but rather because there was nothing left for her to do. She scanned the area for other forms of civilization: There were miles of wheat fields, a few scattered wooden houses (most likely reserved for the farm hands) a mountain range to the north, and a wide expanse of sky. If she declined this offer not only would she be at a loss for free food, but she might even be left to die with a group of people whose sense of self-preservation told them to do everything to a cyclopean but the one thing that would kill it.

The woman held the door open for Tallyho and all who happened to follow. She shimmied toward the front of the group and cleared her throat for their attention.

“We have three guest rooms in this house with 4 beds in each. You may take whichever room you like,” she turned to hike the stairs and lead them to their rooms. As Tallyho followed, she mulled over the math in her head and how many people had landed in the field. A bed for everyone? This farm seemed very prepared to receive them and it was a little off-putting.

The woman led them down a narrow hallway and gestured toward the three doors. “Choose any room you like, I will be bringing you fresh clothes. You might want to visit one of the bath houses nearby before dinner. They are separated by gender. To find them go downstairs and toward the back of the house. There will be two sheds—left for ladies, right for men.”

Without much of a goodbye the woman turned to leave.

Without thinking, Tallyho retreated into the room at the very end of the hall. The room was quite simple: Wooden floors and walls with a pair of parallel narrow beds on each side of the room. The blonde claimed one of the beds near the window and dug her knees into the mattress, which was packed with sheep’s wool. She’d never really had a bed that wasn’t a cluster of blankets on the floor of a tent or in the back of a wagon. She rubbed the fabric of the sheets between her fingers then glanced out of the window at the expanse of wheat.

Tallyho wasn’t sure what was going on, but she needed to make sure that she didn’t die tonight, especially after surviving the cyclopean. Being killed by anything less than that monstrosity would be a shame. It didn’t take long for the woman to come back into her room with a bundle of folded clothes. She slapped them down onto each bed haphazardly, only pausing to differentiate men’s trousers from women’s dresses, depending on who occupied the other beds. Tallyho gathered the dress into her arms. It was no more special than the dress she already wore: light and airy, perfect for the heat of a Solace summer. She could move around in it, which was a plus if Tallyho had to make any mad dashes.

Still without shoes, she gathered the new dress to her bosom and headed straight for the bath house.

She took a deep breath as she entered the shed. The air was thick and moist and hard to breathe through. She was greeted by an older woman, who sat next of a large cauldron of boiling water and another filled with chunks of ice in water. Upon seeing the blonde enter, she reached for a wooden bucket and dunked it into the boiling water before hobbling over to one of 4 separated stalls. She dumped the water into the small wooden tub and repeated the process (mixing the boiling water with the ice water) until the tub was filled up at an acceptable temperature. As she did so, she made small talk:

“Ye lot are very lucky to have this man taking care of ye,” she hummed in her thick common. “I was near m’sixties when m’son died. The only person taking care of me.”

The woman dumped another bucket.

“I came ‘ere and he let me in, gave me food and shelter… Something to do with m’time!” She looked at her bucket and laughed, her lungs sounded like they were full of cobwebs.

“When ye don’t have nowhere to go ye come ‘ere… He don’t care where ye been and where ye going. As long as you pull yer weight and don’t cause no trouble ye have a home here till you get back on yer feet.”


Tallyho replayed this woman’s statements as she sat in her bath stable. She curled into herself with her legs pulled up to her chest. Her knees looked like small crescent moons above the water. Why was she here, in this space for people with nowhere to go? She drafted questions in her head, planning to bring them to the attention of her host over what would hopefully be a very heavy dinner.

She finished her bath and draped herself in her new cotton dress. Later, she sat on a bench nearby a pump well next to the bath houses. She sat alone, attempting to smooth out wrinkles in a dress that was a little large and certainly wasn’t tailored for her figure. Her damp blonde hair curled and clung to her doe-like face.

It was like a movie plot.

Prodding at the blonde girl was an old man. Xabier could sense his impatience even in the distance.
With great effort, he propped himself up on the grass with his shoulders.

This was not New York City.

Some red headed man with a cigar strolled over towards them saying something about guests...and...dinner..?
Xabier's English wasn't perfect but he could swear that the man was offering the group food.. He seemed friendly, but in a way that was too good to be true.

He looked around him, one by one he recognised several people from his drugged dreams. It was all really weird. They were all around the same age and were decently attractive. It was as if they were getting ready for some GAP ad. That, or they had all been drugged and were being trafficked as sex slaves. Or as test experiments.
He had watched plenty of crime tv shows where conventionally attractive youths were coerced and drugged and kidnapped until being murdered.
Xabier didn't really want to be a sex slave or a test experiment so he prayed that they were chosen as "models."

The blonde girl was dressed similar-ish to these farmers. She had been the one that had loudly insisted that they follow her to this place.... She's a honeypot, he suddenly realised. A cutie to get them to trust this ginger guy. It was the only logical explanation.... Okay, he considered it again, not really logical, but still...

Some random ginger lady who had been lying in the field with them was already all up in the friendly man's space. Pouring on the charm. Either she was very stupid or incredibly intelligent, only time would tell.

He laughed when the man, now known as Haru, just ignored her advances. Xabier shrugged at her. Good try, chica.

The woman with the scar on her face mentioned that there were 3 bedrooms with 4 beds each and separate bathhouses for men and women.
It all seemed a bit too planned for his comfort, but his head was pounding and he could smell himself so strongly. It wasn't exactly pleasant. It would be nice to wash up...

That's it. He decided to go get washed immediately. It was on a complete whim. The bathhouse on the right, right? He walked inside and it appeared completely empty.
With a bit of effort he filled up the bath with warm water.

He pulled off his hoodie and then his shirt. They were covered in dirt and sweat stains.

Piece by piece he stripped off his clothing and the feeling was cathartic. The water steamed up and he could feel the hangover fade slightly.

Xabier used the rag near the bath to scrub his skin raw. The skin on the sides of his arms becoming poppy red under his hands. The crappy mobile phone he had brought with him was by the side, its screen still frozen on her name.

Once he was done he was going to change back into his clothes and maybe make a run for it, but he must've splashed some water while washing because they were now sopping wet.

Sighing, Xabier now knew that he was far too stupid to escape. He might as well go into one of the bedrooms.



Wrapping the towel around his waist, he strolled out of the men's bathhouse completely brazen in his near full nudity. Wet clothes in one hand, mobile phone in the other.

He spotted the blonde (probable honeypot) girl, and nodded his head in acknowledgement as he strolled past.

"Hola."


Walking up the stairs and down the hallway he could hear droplets of water falling from his hair onto the floorboards behind him.
Removing the towel from his waist he used it to wipe up the mess and then dry his hair as he walked naked. Nobody seemed to be watching him, but at this stage he hardly cared.

Veneering into the nearest guest bedroom, his eyes were still trained on the ceiling.
He couldn't see any cameras or obvious signs of being recorded but he couldn't be sure. His paranoia had spiked considerably. Ever since he walked into the building he had made a conscious decision to map out routes of escape.

The room appeared to be empty on first glance so he closed the door behind him, whipped the towel over his shoulder and pulled on the (hopefully clean) male underwear left laying on a free bed.

The towel felt soft as he used it to dry his wet hair. There was something weird going on here. Any second now he might be dragged out of the building and harmed. He had to find some clothes and get out quick.

He turned his head to see a young lady sitting on one of the other beds.

Well, shit.

"Sorry about that." He was smiling now, a bit micheviously. "I should have checked the room first."

Slowly, Xabier pulled his newly acquired trousers up and then buttoned up the shirt. He was perfectly fine with nudity, but chicks were usually pretty weird about it. The girl in question was all curled up, her hands fiddling with her lovely albeit messy hair. Probably thinking that he was some sort of creep.

He walked over and held out his hand for her to shake.

"Xabier Sanchez."
He didn't know if he could trust her yet, so he was going to have to pour on the charm.
"What's your name? I feel like I've met you before." It wasn't a lie. She looked like she had been in Central Park.

He smiled.

Kris watched as the others entered the pillar of light, one by one disappearing as they tell forwards into the shining column. He looked beneath him at the path of pure starlight backlit by a rush of crashing waves and then behind him where the stars seemed to stretch for eternity. There was no way back...only forward. Determined, he dive headfirst into the light. It felt like he was falling forever spinning and turning endlessly, but he was not afraid and the sick feeling that normally possesses you when you fall never came. But his landing was fast approaching. He began to spin at breathtaking speeds, closing his eyes. When he opened them, he was lying face down on a field of grass. The scent filled his nose as he pushed himself up to a seated position. He had no idea where he was, where they all were, but, after listening to what the men had to say, he was persuaded that they were safe, at least for the moment.

He stood. He had several questions, however, all that could wait until he had a bath and a hot meal and, possibly some sleep as well. He didn't know why, but he was already exhausted as if he had been on a terribly long journey, and so he followed the man inside, going upstairs to the first room on the left and claiming the bed closest to the door so that, in event that he needed to leave he'd be close to an exit. When someone came in, leaving clothes and a towel, he gratefully accepted, leaving the room and going to the washhouse. Upon entering, a man had drawn a bath and was testing the water's temperature.

"These are for you and your companions."

"Thank you."

"If you need anything else, all you need do is let me know."

With that he went back to maintaining the temperatures of other tubs. Kris quickly undressed and slipped into the tub, the warm water instantly relaxing him. He let out a deep exhale as he descended into the water. He was slightly uncomfortable as he was rather exposed, but after a moment of relaxation, he finished his bath quickly, ensuring he covered himself with his towel as he stepped out and dried off. His clothes were somewhat quaint looking as if they were from a different century. A pair of rather tight brown trousers and a billowy white shirt with a low v-cut in the front and a long lace winding through, barely keeping it closed. After he dressed he stated into the tub at his reflection. His hair he had dried, but it was still slightly damp when he exited. He surveyed the land around him: miles and miles of wheat. These people's existences seemed so quaint, so bleak, yet they seemed so happy, so content. He lingered about outside, enjoying the weather, waiting for dinner to be served or someone to speak to him.

Pene had leaned back against the wall that her chosen bed was pushed up against and had busied herself with the calming ritual that was pulling a lock of hair close to her face, finding a few tresses that were wavy instead of curly, and wrapping them around and around her finger until they bounced into the shape she wanted when she released the hair. The coffee skinned girl did this quietly and methodically, her eyes half closed as if she were ready to sleep.

Well with all she'd been through today, she deserved a hard sleep, a foot massage, and cucumbers over her eyes.

Pene glanced over to the empty hallway where she could hear feet ascending the stairs and coming closer to her chosen room.
Well.. this is a farm.. maybe theym have cucumbers here.. She idled in her head as the footsteps drew closer. Maybe it's one of the house maids coming to ask if I'm gonna wash my ass or not. Her thoughts made her crack a smile and a short and low hum of amusement.

That smile vanished from her lips as a naked.. boy.. No.. Man, (Whoever his father was, he had blessed him with a very impressive gift.. down there..) came strolling into her room with a towel on his head and his eyes cast up to the ceiling.

Red, not pink, hot embarassment at seeing a stranger in his purest, stained and heated her face. Her eyes widened and words stuck in her throat like a burger without a drink. Pene's fingers stilled in her hair and her breaths quickened as she watched him toss his towel and pull on the male underwear from the pile of neat clothes on the unoccupied bed across from her.

Well. Not so vacant anymore I guess with how comfortable he's looking.

But not so comfortable, while she took the liberty of looking him up an down, (Why not? His was an attractive and naked male specimen showing off for, seemingly, all to see. No sense wasting an opportunity when it was swin- standing in front of her.) She could see the tension in his shoulders, the tightness of his back, and his quick and scanning eyes. And those eyes finally found her, a frozen and blushing schoolgirl pressed against the wall next to her bed with a lock of her hair wrapped around her finger.

He smiled, as if he knew what he did.
She gave him a slight and skeptical squint of her eyes, her thick eyebrows falling a fraction.
Then he came closer and told her his name while reaching out his hand.

"Xabier Sanchez. I feel like I've met you before."

Pene licked her lips and fought to find her voice and mobility, while hoping they both could ignore the heat on her face. "U-Uhm.. Pene.. Pene Michaels." She slipped her hand into his so she could gently squeeze and shake it. Pene was pronounced Pen-aye But she didn't like when people drug out the last half. She preferred them say it smooth and quick. As if they were saying Penny.

"Do you always walk around naked in the homes of people you don't know?" She could say that because they all were warped here. She barely knew him.

Tallyho eventually stopped tugging at the wrinkles in her dress, accepting the fact that she’d have to wear them out of the fabric over time. She took a note to hang the garment from a tree when it came time to wash it.

“Maybe this is heaven, hmm?”

Tallyho listened closely to the muffled voice coming from inside the steamy bath house. It belonged to the girl who had been staring at Tallyho all day. At first the blonde wasn’t sure if she’d offended the woman, especially because she was only used to being ogled by grandmothers who liked to pinch her thighs and say that she needed to fill her figure out. And judging by the feminine curves that woman had compared to Tallyho’s spritely figure, she was beginning to fear that it was the case for her too.
What was heaven? Judging by the way the woman seemed to sing it didn’t seem like such a bad place. Her voice sounded so close, as if the brunette were right on the other side of the wall Tallyho rested her back against. She listened as her voice trailed off and into an unrecognizable combination of sounds. It was quick and rolling, similar to the words one of the men in the group said to Tallyho. Oh-lah? She wasn’t sure what it meant, and was so caught up in figuring that out that she didn’t have a chance to respond to him.

“…This is Solace,” she said after a while, her words mostly directed at the girl beyond the wall. “What is heaven?” By this time her voice had settled back into its normal tune, the soft singsong accent attributed to the Sun people. (To someone from earth it might sound a bit Turkish.) Her voice was a great deal calmer than it had been when she was on the verge of being eaten by a child’s nightmare.

As she waited for the girl’s response, her eyes followed a young man with silvery hair. She hadn’t seen anything like that before—she always thought that white hair was for old sages and albinos but this man was neither. She hadn’t seen him during the attack but she could tell by the way he carried himself that he was just as lost as she was. Maybe a little bit more actually…

“Bath is there,” she said to him, aiming a finger at the shed directly across from her. “How your hair like this?”

She gathered a handful of her own tresses which were beginning to dry and bounce back to original volume.

She looked at him again. He seemed a lot calmer than the others.

Xabier plopped down on the bed beside her.

Pene. Like the pasta. He was going to laugh, but he remembered the amount of slack he had gotten from his classmates over his name back before he became friends with everyone.

His name was common enough where he was fun, but the spelling had singled him out as being from a family that were proudly Basque. Sometimes he wished that his mother had called him Xavier of Javier, or a Spanish name like his brother Samuel.

But as fast as it was a problem it was over and he didn't much care for changing his name.

He leaned forward and fixed a piece of her hair that was sticking up.

"Well I suppose I have to pay my way..."
He had a sudden flashforward. This was all an elaborate sex trafficking operation. The old lady with the scar was the pimp.
Hmm that was one way to deal with the situation. If Haru or whatever his name was, is the pimp, then Xabier is screwed.

"If we get to know each other then we won't be strangers and I can walk around as naked as I want."

He smiled again. This time completely honest and playful. His English was pretty bad and his accent had thickened up considerably. Xabier hoped he was pronouncing her name right.

"The best relationships usually start naked anyway."

If she was in on this scheme he would weed it out of her and if she wasn't, he would include her in his plans of escape.

"So, why don't we go exploring, Pene? And you can tell me a little bit about yourself."

He gestured to the door, hopping up away from the bed.

God, he needed a drink.

Pene cleared her throat and sat up as Xabier took a seat beside her. A bit nervously, her eyes darted around the room while her mind whirled with escape scenarios if he tried to do anything to her.
She was always on guard.

As he made himself comfortable, she stuck out her legs so that her feet hung off of the bed. She then tucked her folded hands between her thighs and inhaled. Even though she was sitting there in a casual manner and exuded a picture of slight awkwardness as this unknown male sat beside her and made himself comfortable, inside Pene was still frazzled and exhausted.

In a corner of her mind that handled her emotional and social breakdowns, a small voice was telling her to focus on this Xabier and whatever he wanted to talk about or do. As long as she was comfortable of course. The voice coo'd to her, telling her that she needed tunnel vision on something casual and to ignore the dire situation she was in. Although being housed, clothed, bathed, and soon to be fed wasn't dire, the events leading up to the current scene didn't give Pene a comfortable landing.
So, Pene mentally inhaled and exhaled, and quietly did the same in real time as she tuned her ears to Xabier and let herself unwind in his chatter.

Quietly she listened to him, turning her head slightly to look at him sometimes, mainly glancing at him from the corner of her eye, or lifting the sides of her mouth in a gentle smile.

Guh.. He's such a flirt.. But it seems like that's just the way he is.. I'll just sidestep his innuendos and bedroom eyes while talking to him.. She planned in her head.

Blinking, she looked at him and furrowed her brows. "Exploring..? You think we're allowed to just walk around and poke our noses in things..?" her last statement was posed as a timid question. Her voice held no exotic accent, only a light American one. Her family came to America a long time ago and her first language was English. She spoke to her Nana in her native tongue sometimes but that was all.

"I mean I guess we could.. As long as I'm not the only one getting in trouble. Would you mind if I pinned it all on you if and when we get caught..?" She smiled some, poking at humor and enjoying the refreshing feel it gave to the dark cloud looming over her psyche.