Georgia
The black night sky was empty, devoid of any stars, aircraft, and even the Moon itself. Not even it's glorious rays could be seen. Unseen to all on the ground, the sky was completely covered in cloud as far as the human eye could see. The sky had been the same dull gray all day in Isakstad. Nobody really paid any mind, it was just some normal weather things. Some days were sunny, some days were not. It's how life is, really.

A tall girl, donning short, jet-black hair, a light gray coat with black buttons at her chest allowing the coat to secure itself to the girl's body with a skirt that went down to her knees, blue jean pants, and the black school shoes she'd mistakenly taken along instead of the shoes she'd normally use for everyday life when she lived in Japan. The shoes were uncomfortably tight on her feet, but it was much better than going barefoot in a place like this.

Yellowed street lights illuminated the streets as the girl walked along the sidewalk. She was enjoying a calming walk to allow herself to de-stress a little bit while she was still adjusting to Sweden. However, the wind suddenly picked up, and the girl suddenly felt a cold drop of liquid fall on her face. As she flinched upon the drop of liquid hitting her face, she looked up to see what caused it, only to begin to feel more drops of cold liquid fall onto her face. Then it began to pour rain. The girl hurried to the nearest bit of shelter, which happened to be a bus stop with a roof. She ran under the cover of the stop before sitting down on the chair as she tried to catch her breath.
Sidney
◆ "Goddamnit." A voice grumbled from an unassuming doorstep in one of Isakstad's sleepy suburbs. **"Elias, har du ett paraply som jag kan låna?"**

[Elias, got an umbrella I can borrow?]

□ When she'd initially stepped off a bus two hours earlier, the weather had been gloomy but dry. A touch of petrichor, a whiff in the air, a suggestion that it had been raining earlier that day. But now, it wasn't a suggestion, and instead it was a frigid autumn downpour that bounced off the umbrella Margo had been forced to borrow from her friend and mentor in town, and it was a downpour she hadn't been expecting. Even with the overhead protection keeping her hair dry the whipping winds flipped the rain on a diagonal, slamming into the legs of her cargo pants with reckless abandon.

▪︎ Thankfully, the bus stop wasn't too far from the shop; she made the trip in just under four minutes, timed by a Mars Volta song blaring from the chest pocket of her coat.

□ As to be expected, though, someone else was there, taking shelter from the biblical downpour hammering poor old Isakstad. Someone who, just from a single glance, Margo managed to peg as Japanese. Was it the clothing, or was it the hair? Her face? The shoes? Whatever the case, her innate intuition told her that whoever this was, they'd come a long way, and it only went to reason that if they'd come all the way to Sweden they had to have known either the local language or the business language. So, as she fished out a pouch of tobacco and the supplies she'd need to roll she contemplated on what to say.

▪︎ She was off the market, so to speak, but the combination of a skirt and short hair awakened a shameful temptation within her. Just three months prior, she'd have put all the moves on this gal; now she had a beautiful partner of her own, and she couldn't even entertain the idea of fooling with someone else without tasting bile in the back of her throat.

◆ "Hey. Nasty business out there, huh? Like someone stabbed God in the eye with a syringe full of salt and lemon juice."
Georgia
As she sat upright on the metal bus stop bench, the girl could feel drops of frigid water hitting her legs as the rain was blown onto a diagonal path. The wind blowing into the bus stop made the air around her feel even colder than it already was, and the buildings were doing little to block it, unfortunately for her. As she began to hug herself to preserve body heat, she heard someone stepping towards the bus stop and looked up to see a figure stepping under the cover of the stop.

She quickly figured that they were also taking shelter from the rain, but she wondered why they weren't sitting on the bench like she was; they were still getting drenched. The girl hoped that there would soon be a break in the rain, for she wasn't too keen on missing her dinner. As she looked back down to her knees, the person in front of them spoke up, prompting her to look up and pay attention to them in order to be polite. There was but one problem, though.

She couldn't understand anything they were saying.

When they finished vocalizing, the girl looked up at them confusedly, as she tried to figure out what they were saying. Yet, despite her best efforts, she couldn't understand a smidge of what they were saying to her. It was yet another language barrier. Something she'd encountered twice just in the past week when others tried to communicate with her as she traveled around the Cradle.

The girl didn't know what to do, but then she remembered. Her conversations with one Uriel Melancon, her first real friend. She used a translator app to give them something they could actually read, and in return they did the same. She realized she could do the same thing with the person in front of them, despite her worries that they would find translator communication weird, she figured it was much better than not being able to communicate whatsoever.

The girl attempted to reach for her phone in her coat pocket, but when she reached into it, there was nothing except for stray bits of gray cloth and particles of dust. Her expression changed to that of worry as she looked down to her pocket and opened it, only to realize her phone wasn't there. The black Samsung Galaxy A20 that she'd been using as her only viable mode of communication since she arrived at the Cradle was gone. The girl began to panic, realizing she and the other person wouldn't be able to communicate with each other at all. She looked back up at them as she put her balled up hands together with an obvious look of worry in their expression.
Sidney
◇ Somewhat unexpectedly, the other girl couldn't even croak out an utterance.

□ A single eyebrow shot up in light surprise as the cogs of Margo's head began to turn. So, the other gal didn't understand English, and judging from her frantic patdown of all her pockets she'd really been banking on having some sort of translator nearby; a dictionary, a phone, et cetera. Instead, it was now on Margo to figure out how to bridge this gap, and it was on her to figure out how to approach it without coming off as indirectly racist. 

▪︎ A heavy burden for a wealthy heiress, clearly. Clearly.

◆ パニックになっているのがわかる。**[Noticed the panic on your face.]** Margo calmly replied, popping a filter from the pouch into the corner of her tight-strung lips. Though her phrasing might have been a touch awkward – thanks in no small part to being a bit out of practice with the spoken side of Japanese – it was hopefully enough for the other girl to understand. If not, she had a backup planned. "今、私の言うことがわかりますか?" **[Can you understand me now?]**
Georgia
The girl saw the eyebrow shoot up on the other person's face and feared they were getting impatient with her. She'd been taught by her parents early on to be polite to people she meets. She feared that with her not saying anything she would be seen as ignoring the other in some form, and she knew it was rude to ignore someone. Suddenly, though, she heard something. Something she could understand. **"Noticed the panic on your face. Can you understand me now?"** Her eyes widened as they unexpectedly began to speak in Japanese, the girl's mother tongue. The only tongue she could understand.

With that, the girl now knew she would be able to communicate with them without being forced to rely on technology. She was still worried about her phone, but all she needed to do now was to reply to them. She processed their question again and croaked out a response. 

「は、はい。」 **"Y-Yes."** 

Her voice was soft and whispery, indicative of the girl's shyness and timidity. Her voice hadn't once been raised above that tone since she was forced into Sweden. She couldn't even remember a recent time where she had used a louder, more... "Natural" Tone. However, she was no longer worried about any language barriers. All she was worried about now was communicating to them. Her balled-up hands, covered in thick, insulating brown leather gloves, slowly loosened. However, they were kept in that position long enough for ice to form. She was forced to open her hands for a moment to let the ice crack and fall out of her gloves, which came out as small chunks that fell onto her lap.
Sidney
◆ "よし、いいぞ。それは...正直言って安心しました。" **[Okay, good. That's... A relief, honestly.]** Margo replied in turn, fishing a paper out and beginning the still mildly awkward task of rolling a cigarette with the rain hitting sideways and the awareness that any astute (see also: lucky) officer could have seen her subverting Sweden's tobacco laws. "半年たった今でも、私の日本語はスウェーデン語より少し上手なだけです。" **[Even now, six months down the road, my Japanese is just a little better than my Swedish.]**

□ Casually humming the words out as she focused on the task at hand, her scarred bony hands went about their task with only the light protrusion of her tongue indicating how focused she was. Of course, though, she had a brief moment of clarity and sank into the seat, protecting the bags she'd dropped a few moments prior with her legs. If the other gal prodded her nose in she'd have seen it was a mix of reptile supplies: decorations for enclosures, a new heat lamp bulb, food, et cetera. And if she prodded, she'd have been faced with no answers.

▪︎ At least, not for the two minutes it took her to roll, seal, and light her cigarette.

◆ "煙が気になるなら、外に出るよ。" **[If the smoke's a problem I'll step outside.]** She commented, an offer of good faith born from the awareness that many people couldn't stand the stink of tobacco. "スウェーデン語は話せないのに どうやってここに来た？揺りかごに埋葬された？" **[So how'd a Japanese gal like you end up here without a lick of Swedish? Also interred at the Cradle?]**
Georgia
The girl nodded as they remarked of the relief they felt that she could understand them. She looked down to the ground for a moment for no particular reason, until she heard the faint sound of crinkling paper over the noisy sound of the rain filling the space within the bus stop. She turned to the other person to see what they were doing. She watched them roll up the paper into a cigarette and light it before putting it in their mouth and smoking. She couldn't really smell the tobacco smoke over the petrichor.

She noticed the bags below them being protected by their legs and became slightly curious as to what was inside, but decided not to be nosy, for it was seen as rude to her. She then decided it would be best to mind her own business and sat straight, facing forward at the rain which was still hitting the blue jeans she wore. She hugged herself again as she felt the coldness of the air bring blown into and around the bus stop.

When she heard them ask how she ended up here without any knowledge of Swedish to speak of, she turned to them and already knew the answer. She spoke up using the same soft, whispery voice she used earlier, which was barely audible over the rain.

「わ、私は... ここに来ることを余儀なくされた。」 **"I-I was... I was forced to come here."**
Sidney
◆ "同じだ。" **[Fuckin' same.]** Margo replied in a gruff manner, wisps of smoke filtering through her teeth and the craggles of her chapped lips as she spoke. "しかし、クレイドルは、あなたが送られた可能性のある最悪の場所とは程遠いです。君のような変人に囲まれていて、我々の種のために作られた施設で...実際の刑務所よりましだろう？" **[But the Cradle's far from the worst place you could have been sent. You're surrounded by weirdos like you, in a facility that's tailored for our kind... Beats actual prison, no?]**

□ As she spoke the metaphorical rust began to flake off of her spoken Japanese, the fluidity and cadence of her voice improving rapidly with each word that left her mouth. Of course, she had to mind certain oddities about the Japanese language, many centered around Japanese culture itself, but it still beat having to feed her English through a machine translator just to be able to communicate. Looking out at the rain, she hummed in slight content, tapping the toe of her combat boot against the concrete floor of the bus stop and blowing smoke rings out into the storm.

▪︎ A real moment of peace enveloped her, so to speak.

◆ "それで、ここに送られるために何をしたんだ？" **[So, what'd you do to get sent here?]** She asked after a couple of moments. "私は父を殺そうとしました。もう少しで殺すところだった でもあのクソジョガーは... 現れるべくして現れたんだ。" **[I tried to kill my father. Nearly did too, but then those fucking joggers just... Had to show up.]**
Georgia
It was oddly slightly comforting to her that they were in the same boat that she was. As she continued to listen to them speak to her, telling her how "The Cradle's far from the worst place you could have been sent.", she thought for a moment about it, and considered the other places she could've been to. A moment later, she gave them a nod in agreement, thinking that the Cradle was probably the best place they could've been sent to, considering her current situation.

The rain continued to pour and hadn't slowed down since the wind began to pick up. The droplets were only illuminated by the street lights hanging over the road, casting yellowish light upon the colorless asphalt. She turned back to the rain in the few moments of silence between them, wondering just how long they would be here. It almost felt like mother Gaia was punishing them for walking outside after sunset, like a mother would.

She turned her head back to them, her gray, angular eyes locking onto their eyes as they asked what she did to get sent here. She didn't have time to think as they kept speaking, telling her about how they nearly killed their own father. This shocked the girl, who let out an audible gasp as their eyes widened. She had never lived in a reality where she had any less than a loving relationship with her parents, so it was shocking to her to learn this fact. It also made her a somewhat afraid of them as she realized they could kill her too if they desired. She scoots away from them a few cm, hoping they wouldn't notice.
Sidney
◆ "あ、そうか。" **[Oh, right.]** Margo awkwardly spoke. "それは...ちょっと手前味噌ですね。ふむ 衝動的なものではないと言っておくよ 彼はそれに値する、本当に。" **[That's... Kind of upfront. Hm. I'll just say that it wasn't on impulse; he deserved it, truly.]**

□ And that was all she could really say without overstepping common social boundaries. Who in their right mind *Wanted* To hear about another person's attempt to murder their father at the bus stop? Who would have consented to that? Taking a drag, she leaned back into the seat a little, the toe of her boot poking out into the rain as she did so. Of course, though, as she sat in relative silence only punctuated by the rolling patter of rain and the occasional whooshing noise of cars driving by she thought back to that night, dropping out of her second-story window directly into Hiram's accosting glare.

▪︎ And she remembered just how horrified he looked once she'd straddled him and began to lay into him; a wicked smile spread across her face.

◆ それで、話を共有したいのか、小僧？**[So, you wanna share stories, kid?]** She broke the silence after a few good moments. "それともまだ私を怖がっているのか？もしそうなら... あなたを責めないわ でも傷つけはしないよ、心配しないで." **[Or are you still scared of me? Because if so... I don't blame you. I'm not gonna hurt you though, no worries.]**
Georgia
They just said it so... Casually. If she ever killed her father, she wouldn't even tell a blade of grass about it. The metaphorical thousand tonne guilt would likely get to her before then, anyway. They had no problem admitting to her, a 14 year old girl, of attempted murder. What was she supposed to do with that information?! They didn't look much older than her, too! Not to mention they were subverting Sweden's smoking laws, too.

As she looked down a little, trying to process this new information about the person in front of her, she saw a wicked smile spread across her face in her peripheral vision. Her eyes focused onto that dastardly smile. A smile that showed joy in their attempt of taking their own father's life. They seemed to have not a smidge of remorse or guilt for doing such a terrible thing. She became even more afraid, hugging herself a little tighter.

The answer to Margo's question of whether she wanted to share more stories or if they were still scared of them was obvious. It was showing in her eyes, her fear towards them. She did not want any more of their stories, fearing she'd be told something out of a nightmare. Yet, she feared they'd become angry towards her if she declined their stories.

「お、お進みください。。。」 **P-Please, go ahead..."**
Sidney
◆ "あ、いや。あなたのことです" **[Oh, no. I meant you.]** Margo clarified without a moment's hesitation. "何か話したいことがあればという意味です。何でもいい クレイドルではよくあることなんだ 我々がどうしてここに送られたのか という話をね 君の手袋の氷から判断すると それに関係することだと思うんだ 話は後だ バスが来るから." **[I meant if you want to talk about something. Anything. It's common at the Cradle to exchange stories about how we got sent here, and... Judging from the ice in your gloves, I'm guessing it's something to do with that. Don't gotta talk, though; bus should be here soon.]**

□ Ever observant, she could tell that the mixture of a wiry, wicked grin and the talk about nearly putting her father in a casket had deeply unsettled the other girl. So, rather than say anything more on the matter she let the soft hiss of the rain and wind come over the bus stop again, puffing away and taking a few moments to check her phone. Looking at the top, she noted the time; *Twenty minutes 'til the bus is here,* She silently noted without so much as a twitch of a muscle in her face.

▪︎ And, unless provoked into talking, she'd keep her mouth shut and only occasionally glance over at the other girl, trying her best to read the mood off of her body language.
Georgia
Oh. She felt a little dumb for that, but she knows now that she'd need to share some stories of her own. She quickly gave them a nod and looked down a little, trying to think of her story as to how she got here. She tried to remember the events that led up to this. How did she get to the Cradle? Think, c'mon... It took her a few minutes to recollect what had happened before she got sent to the cradle. Note that I will not translate this part because it will end up being too long.

"S-So... Um... First, some officials k-knocked on my door, then they talked with m-my mom and dad... T-then, umm... I-I was told, that I'd be sent here... W-with my belongings, s-so I said bye to my... P-parents, then I... I-I..." *Sniffle*

The girl quickly became emotional as she told them a kind of short version of her story of how she got here. She deeply misses her parents, her teachers, her home. Koriyama was the only city she'd ever known, and she wants to be flown back to Japan more than anything, even if it meant being in a place where nobody wanted to be with her, that she'd be a social outcast because of her gloves. In Sweden, she could read nothing. She could understand nothing a local was saying. She had no form of communication other than to get lucky and meet someone who understands Japanese, or use a translator app or website. She felt just as lonely here as she did in Japan.
Sidney
◆ **"I see."** Margo replied in turn, picking up on the sniffles that interlaced the girl's words. **"So you're one of the rare residents who [didn't] commit a crime to get sent here... Not that it matters much, but you're one of the unfortunate few."**

□ Picking her words carefully, Margo leaned forwards a little, into the space betwixt her knees. Compared to most of the people she'd spoken to, this gal was timid, uncertain, still not entirely convinced that it was reality instead of some vile, malevolent dream; maybe that was why she'd taken on a slightly different tone. Or, maybe it was just a side effect of switching languages. She wasn't sure. Taking one last puff she dropped her cigarette butt into a disposal bucket attached to the tin siding of the bus stop before letting out a hum.

▪︎ A thoughtful hum, like the rumbling of a V10 engine. Powerful; intense.

◆ **"If you need Swedish lessons, I can help. I'm a natural polyglot; always had a knack for languages, and linguistics has always fascinated me beyond words."** She offered, looking over at the taller girl. **"Or English, too; most people here talk English, so you'd be remiss to not learn the basics at least. It'd reduce your reliance on a translator, and... It'd probably do you some good. Help you blend in a bit better, not be so isolated and miserable."**
Georgia
"One of the unfortunate few"? What did they mean by that? Why was she, considered by them, to be "One of the unfortunate few"? She didn't understand. If you think about this, everyone's current situation, everyone here is "One of the unfortunate few" In some way. Taken from their homes, if they weren't already here, with little warning, and placed into a potentially foreign institute with no knowledge of the country you just landed in, or its language.

However, when they offered Swedish classes, or if she wanted, English classes, she was slightly taken aback. They went from a random stranger making small talk, to spilling the beans about attempted murder on their own father, to wanting to offer language classes to the girl. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to think of them by this point.

The offer seemed too good to pass up. She'd be able to understand so much more at the Cradle, and she'd be able to have conversations with some locals who also knew the language, yet there was still the fact that the person sitting next to them had committed attempted murder on their own father. Would she be willing to take language classes with a potential murderer? After giving it a moment of thought, she decided to decline, but would probably take the classes later on.

"Um, n-no thanks, not right now... B-but, I think I-I could take them later on..."
Sidney
◆ **"Suit yourself."**

□ With that, Margo fell quiet once more, digging her phone out of the breast pocket of her jacket and beginning to type away at it. Somehow she'd missed quite a bit in the past fifteen minutes – a video of Anton being chaotic, texts from her mom, et cetera – and figured it was about time she shut up and just let the other girl wait in peace. She was cognizant of how abrupt and jagged her train of conversation had been, jumping from small talk to baring deep, dark secrets, and figured the other girl had had enough in the way of whiplash for one day.

▪︎ That being said, she had one more question.

◆ **"Didn't catch your name."** She hummed. **"Margo. What's yours?"**
Georgia
The girl looks back down to the ground as the two fall silent, with only the pouring rain and cold gusts of wind filling the metaphorical emptiness of silence. She replayed the conversation over and over in her head as she tried to figure out what to make of the person sitting beside them. It was a lot of deep information to take in at once for the poor girl.

A gust of cold wind blew right into the bus stop, sending a shiver down the girl's body despite the fact she was dressed warmly. She'd never really been "Resistant" To the cold, despite living in an area where it snowed during the winter. She enjoyed the change in temperature, she thought it was a nice break from the warm, humid summers in Koriyama, but hated when it got so cold that she shivered. Then, the person next to them dropped the question of her name. Margo. Quite an unusual name for her, but she liked it.

"N-Nakanishi... T-that's my name."

She responded, turning her head so her eyes could meet their face once more.