By the hands of the Gods, you have been plucked from your time and from your world, dropped into the box.
Only the box is a world of its own.
We are a mass crossover based on the concept of Pandora's Box. Characters from nearly any fandom can be played here. Because of the endless character possibilities, we are canon only here at Pandora. Take a peek at our rules and plot information before starting your new life in Pandora.
Heart pounding away in his chest, it wasn't such a miracle that he was keeping his cool. Thancred Waters had always had more than an inkling of how to keep his head firmly atop his shoulders when the goings got tough and, truth be told, the goings absolutely were tough. The unanswered questions were just adding on and adding on, and although the admittedly terrifying woman he had spending the past couple of hours dodging the well out of had dropped mention of Pandora and what it all meant for somebody like him who was blind to it, those still weren't answers. Not entirely. Or perhaps Thancred was having trouble juggling the concept of yet another new world while he quite literally ran for his life.
With the guard out looking for him, chances to stop and breathe were few and far between. It seemed as though every corner he turned, they were rushing in his direction, and Thancred was certain he could knock some heads together, but where would that have gotten him? There was just as well the chance that there was more to them than swords and blunt force. There was just as well the chance that he was far more out of his league than he thought, and the uncertainty of his location certainly wasn't helping.
A corner was rounded and Thancred found himself doubling backward, racing to the other end of the short alleyway he had found himself in. The sound of loud footfall stopped him short, though, and again, he doubled backward into the alley once more. One look in the right direction and he would be found. One look in right direction and the search would be up. He would be dragged before The Undertaker and-- and then what? Thrown into a cell? Maybe he would jump straight to a beheading.
In that particular moment, Thancred had begun to wonder if, perhaps, his instinct to fight his way out of the unknown had been wrong. Maybe the Undertaker would have been more receptive to words.
Too late for words, he thought, as he suddenly whirled around, his eyes catching sight of a window above him, a soft glow coming from it. Where it lead was a question in and of itself, but truth be told, he didn't care. He just needed to be out of that alleyway and the two easy exits were no longer an option. So up Thancred went, smooth as could be as though he had scaled walls a hundred times before, and this was easily the easiest of them as his boot perched on any small ledge it could find while he pulled himself up. Eventually, his fingers were hooking onto the windowsill and he was pulling himself the rest of the way up, tumbling into the window with far less grace than he ever would have intended.
The massive gunblade on his back certainly didn't help as far as maneuvers went.
Before Lethe, Aloy couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept in a proper bed. Probably the night before the…the Proving. She didn’t sleep much as it was, but it was nice, she guessed, to lie somewhere comfy. Not that it really mattered to her either way.
The soft glow from the covered flame next to her bed drew her in, and its reflection danced in her green eyes as she led on her side, staring at it. As the day drew to a close, her thoughts always began to race. Mostly regrets, mistakes she wished she could fix but now would never have the chance. Those she’d come to call her family after Rost who she might never see again. Aloy didn’t like sitting alone with her thoughts, feeling pity for herself. But sometimes, she couldn’t help it, as a lump welled in her throat that she tried desperately to swallow down.
Something really didn't want her to sleep that night, as, just as her eyes grew heavy, there was a noise outside; a noise she recognised as someone trying to scale the wall. Aloy sprung up with all the experience of a trained huntress, rolling silently off the bed and grabbing her spear which was hidden underneath.
A man with a shock of white hair fell through the window, in such a way Aloy rolled her eyes. There was something on his back, a weapon perhaps. Was he here to take what little she had; had he seen the light and been drawn to it?
The redhead charged forward from her hiding place, leaping over the bed to hopefully kick him right in the chest, which would affect his already unbalanced gait enough that she could down him and stick her spear to his throat.
“Who are you? Why did you climb through my window?”
With hardly even a moment's opportunity to compose himself, there was a flash of red in the soft glow of the dimly lit room, something he hadn't even the smallest of chances to truly register before a book smacked straight into his chest. Thancred had barely been on his feet for two seconds before he was toppling right on over again. Without a doubt, he could have tried harder to stay on his feet. He could have snatched his gunblade back into his hand where it had been for a great majority of time since his arrival in this hellhole, but instead, he gave the young redhead the upper hand and, for once, he could put exactly into words the why of it.
In what little he had glimpsed, he had seen her face. She was youthful. Not terribly older than the young blonde who wore a face similar to Minfilia's and wandered about using her name if only because there was no other for her, if only because she had never and would never have the opportunity to be her own person. Long since made abject by the thought of that girl's fate, Thancred couldn't help the way that his bleeding heart surfaced, the way that he let her take the upper hand, let her press that spear against his throat.
A risk, by every definition of the word, and yet there he was, staring up at her.
"These are some survival instincts deserving of the highest praise. I would physically applaud you, but I'm rather pinned to the ground at the moment," he remarked, shifted slightly beneath her as thought to simply prove his point. He had the strength, without a doubt, to push her right off of him, and he certain even she would realize that, plain as day. Thancred had height over her, build over her, and likely a great deal of experience over her as well, but even still, he remained where he was beneath her. The hope, of course, was that she wouldn't decide she would rather gut him than here him out. "My name is Thancred and I'm looking for shelter for the night. Or an hour's time. Or fifteen minutes. Even that would be preferable over you tossing me back out your window or calling for the guards. I'm not a threat to you. I can promise you that."
Aloy gripped her staff tight, glaring down at the stranger, only tilting her head at his first words to her. He was taller, stronger looking; he could probably try and snatch the staff from her hands, then knock her to the ground himself. So why wasn’t he?
Even stranger was he told her his name and just why he had chosen here. He didn’t demand, but rather requested that she let him stay, even for only a matter of minutes. Was he telling the truth, or was this a ploy for her to let her guard down? He might set upon her the moment she released him.
She didn’t press the staff further into his neck, but didn’t lay off the pressure either. “Why are the guards looking for you? You say you’re not a threat to me, but how I can be sure?”
"You can't," he admits, keeping still as he stares up at her. "Although if I were really a dastardly villain the way your Undertaker would have you believe, I'm sure I would have been much more careful not to be pinned on my back, and then I would have done any number of dastardly, villainous things. Ah, but word isn't enough even if you are thus far the most reasonable person I've met in Lethe." And it was the truth. Turning up at the Undertaker's Compound and tearing through guards who would sooner chop your head off for insulting their boss than hear you didn't leave him in a particularly good position.
"Would you feel better tying me to a chair?" A bold offer. "Granted, I'd rather not be tied to a chair, but I'd rather not be thrown out your window or run through either."
He was talking way more than she liked, and her growing irritation showed on her face. That he’d woken her up hadn’t helped either. She’d never met them, but knew of the Undertaker, though it wasn’t like she answered to them personally – she just knew he was dangerous and knew about anything that went on in Lethe.
“Seeing how you managed to evade – I’m guessing it was the Undertaker’s men, chances are if I did tie you up, you’d find a way out of it,” Aloy coolly observed, looking him up and down. “You don’t seem that concerned that I could do it,” she added at the option of just throwing him back the way he came. But even now, she knew she wouldn’t do that.
Hey broskis. Sorry I've been borderline AWOL for the better part of a year. Things have been a little meh and I feel like I'm stretched so damn thin right now. I wanna come back and write with you guys again, but idk when that's gonna be. Hope you're all doing well. <3