Falling Gravity (Season 01)

DSW (7)

This made no fricking sense.

Just a few minutes ago, Pacifica was in 2012, now suddenly she was brought to. . . She didn't know, but she guessed it was the 19th Century? Why was everything so different all of a sudden?

Breath in, breath out. I guess I can learn something about the town's history, or whatever. Maybe this is not even real history. Everything was possible in this place.

As she walked around the town, she could take in the scenery. The chariots around the town seemed to be having a busy day, since they were going everywhere. People were dressed in outfits that definitely felt like heating up, but then, Pacifica felt a shiver down her spine. Which made her wonder: how would she explain her modern outfit? Would they just brush it off, since this was not really a time travelling, but just some random illusion of whatever place she ended up?

Oh, nevermind. Pacifica peered down to her outfit, seeing a purple long dress with yellow hems, on top of her head was a purple bonnet with a pink feather. She held tightly onto her shield, noticing the pair of black gloves she wore. Deciding it wasn't worth questioning the possibility of her outfit change, she kept walking around the town, until one of the chariots stopped right next to her on the street, opening a door. She assumed (by the fact it was empty inside) that it was for her to go in. Stranger danger went to the trash, she needed to get out of there no matter what. She got in, with the door shutting as soon as she sat down and the chariot moving away. It stayed silent for a minute, or what seemed to be a minute, until Pacifica decided to be the awkward one to start the subject.

"Eh. . . Excuse me?"

"Hm?"

"Um, what date is it today?"

"Why, how could you forget, young Rosanna? Today is January 13th, 1843." the voice, a deep masculine one, said. "You really should stop hanging out with that witch girl, she's probably already damaging your brain."

Okay. . . Who the heck is Rosanna? And what witch girl is he talking about?

"I'm sorry, I'm just tired." Pacifica muttered.

"It's fine, young Trembley, just don't forget that today you'll meet someone very important." he said. "Your father would hate if this went wrong."

All that she wanted was to find a way out of this place, and now, suddenly, she was transported to act as Rosanna Trembley, who, by the way, she had no idea of even existed. Breath in, Pacifica. Just play along. The chariot stopped before a huge mansion, the door was opened.

"The eldest daughter of aristocrat Quentin Trembley," a man announced, holding the door opened. "Rosanna Mary Trembley."

Pacifica shifted to step out of the chariot, slowly landing on the path to the entrance of the mansion. The man that announced her entrance soon shut the door behind Pacifica and walked with her towards said entrance, where a family stood. A tall old-looking man smiled at her. "Ah, my dearest daughter, Rosanna," he greeted. "It sure took you a while to return."

Pacifica blinked, unsure what to say. "Forgive me, father," she tried to maintain eye contact, failing. "I was—"

"No, no, there's no reason to explain," Quentin said, raising a hand. "We'll talk later. Now, it's time to meet your fiancee."

My what?

A boy with brown hair and dark eyes held Pacifica's hand, bowing to give it a kiss. He looked up to her with a smile. "Ronald Northwest," he said. "It's nice to meet you, Rosanna."

Ronald. . . Northwest?

Northwest?

Like, Robbie Northwest?