(no subject)
WHO: Tom Riddle and OPEN
WHERE: in the area of Stark Tower
WHEN: late afternoon, October 10
WARNINGS: well. it's Voldemort. a very angry Voldemort. so. we'll see.
SUMMARY: Tom has arrived in the City! And he's pretty unhappy about it.
FORMAT: whatever!
This was absurd. This entire situation was absurd. Snatched out of Hogwarts--Hogwarts--by some ridiculous Muggle machine that wouldn't even answer his questions and seemed to think he was a hero. A hero for whom, he wondered. It was certainly not a title he would ever choose for himself. And from the look and sound of the world outside the front doors, the machine had brought him to an American Muggle city.
He had to take a moment to calm down before he actually stepped outside the building. He'd already been on edge in the Chamber--Harry had the diary--and suddenly finding himself nowhere near Hogwarts had only driven his mood further south, but it wouldn't do to take out his anger on the passers-by. People, especially Muggles, were considerably less helpful when terrified.
When he did finally step out of the building, he didn't get far. He had to stop and look around. Everything was much...bigger than he remembered. He supposed it would be; he hadn't seen a Muggle city since before he'd created the diary, and that had been fifty years ago. But even knowing that hadn't quite prepared him for the sight. It was quite something.
It was nowhere near where he wanted to be.
He leaned back against the side of the building, tapping Harry's wand absently on his leg as he looked around. It shouldn't be too difficult to make his way back to Britain. America had wizards; they were connected to the Floo Network and could authorize a Portkey for him. He would just have to find them.
In the mean time, he would need a place to stay and money for food. It might have been fifty years since he had a proper body, but he did remember that clearly. He even might have relished it if he'd been in control of this situation.
Red sparks burst from his wand, scaring a few of the passing Muggles, and he closed his eyes to push back his fury again. He could, and would, make the best of this. After all, it would only be for as long as it took to make his way home.
WHERE: in the area of Stark Tower
WHEN: late afternoon, October 10
WARNINGS: well. it's Voldemort. a very angry Voldemort. so. we'll see.
SUMMARY: Tom has arrived in the City! And he's pretty unhappy about it.
FORMAT: whatever!
This was absurd. This entire situation was absurd. Snatched out of Hogwarts--Hogwarts--by some ridiculous Muggle machine that wouldn't even answer his questions and seemed to think he was a hero. A hero for whom, he wondered. It was certainly not a title he would ever choose for himself. And from the look and sound of the world outside the front doors, the machine had brought him to an American Muggle city.
He had to take a moment to calm down before he actually stepped outside the building. He'd already been on edge in the Chamber--Harry had the diary--and suddenly finding himself nowhere near Hogwarts had only driven his mood further south, but it wouldn't do to take out his anger on the passers-by. People, especially Muggles, were considerably less helpful when terrified.
When he did finally step out of the building, he didn't get far. He had to stop and look around. Everything was much...bigger than he remembered. He supposed it would be; he hadn't seen a Muggle city since before he'd created the diary, and that had been fifty years ago. But even knowing that hadn't quite prepared him for the sight. It was quite something.
It was nowhere near where he wanted to be.
He leaned back against the side of the building, tapping Harry's wand absently on his leg as he looked around. It shouldn't be too difficult to make his way back to Britain. America had wizards; they were connected to the Floo Network and could authorize a Portkey for him. He would just have to find them.
In the mean time, he would need a place to stay and money for food. It might have been fifty years since he had a proper body, but he did remember that clearly. He even might have relished it if he'd been in control of this situation.
Red sparks burst from his wand, scaring a few of the passing Muggles, and he closed his eyes to push back his fury again. He could, and would, make the best of this. After all, it would only be for as long as it took to make his way home.