Uh, I'm a monster, exorcisms.
WHO: the_human_thing and hoaryhoasts
WHERE: THE YOGURT SHOP
WHEN: the day Dexter arrives, 3 pm.
WARNINGS: none we hope
SUMMARY: Dr. Strange tells Dex what's up. Or something.
FORMAT: words??
[Dexter quietly slips into the shop, finding a seat within easy view of the door and settling in. He knew a normal person might be panicking, but Harry had never been through what he was expected to do in the event of being transported to another dimension. However, he found himself just as callously uncaring as in his own. Without Rita or the kids, it was even easier to feel nothing. Without his sister or the station, everything felt lost; without reason. But he couldn't afford to lose his own reason, and so he kept it close to his heart in the form of dogtags. Ones he was still trying to puzzle out.
He ordered a mango smoothie and stared at it, knowing before the first sip that it was neither poisoned nor as good as the batidos back home. Even his Spanish wouldn't do him any good here, knowing the Cubano accent would easily be laughed out of this strange alternate New York. All of that aside, he couldn't be sure what he was waiting for. For a man who specialized in the paranormal and called himself Dr. Strange, maybe. Or maybe it was something else entirely. An explanation? Surely if there were one he'd have it already.
Dexter sighed and sipped at his treat, more impatient than perhaps he made himself out to be.]
WHERE: THE YOGURT SHOP
WHEN: the day Dexter arrives, 3 pm.
WARNINGS: none we hope
SUMMARY: Dr. Strange tells Dex what's up. Or something.
FORMAT: words??
[Dexter quietly slips into the shop, finding a seat within easy view of the door and settling in. He knew a normal person might be panicking, but Harry had never been through what he was expected to do in the event of being transported to another dimension. However, he found himself just as callously uncaring as in his own. Without Rita or the kids, it was even easier to feel nothing. Without his sister or the station, everything felt lost; without reason. But he couldn't afford to lose his own reason, and so he kept it close to his heart in the form of dogtags. Ones he was still trying to puzzle out.
He ordered a mango smoothie and stared at it, knowing before the first sip that it was neither poisoned nor as good as the batidos back home. Even his Spanish wouldn't do him any good here, knowing the Cubano accent would easily be laughed out of this strange alternate New York. All of that aside, he couldn't be sure what he was waiting for. For a man who specialized in the paranormal and called himself Dr. Strange, maybe. Or maybe it was something else entirely. An explanation? Surely if there were one he'd have it already.
Dexter sighed and sipped at his treat, more impatient than perhaps he made himself out to be.]