He hits the ground hard; it is impossible to tell quite where he's fallen from, but it's far enough to knock the wind out of him for a few moments
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Locke is sprawled in a chair, looking more like a cadaver than anything else. He lifts his head looking at the new arrival. He laughs, harshly, and rather madly. "Human. Won't find too much of that here. Welcome to hell, fellow. Welcome to gods-fucking hell."
Locke tilts his head back and closes his eyes, looking amused. "Me? Nooo. I don't think of anything for myself if I can help it. Steal everything. That's me. Thief through and through..." He laughs again. "Yeah, I made it up. Gentlemen Bastards, I made that one up too...fat lot of good it did us."
Possibly this is all a hallucination. He's had enough shocks today, mental and otherwise; maybe he's just coming unhinged. It explains the unfamiliar, too-lush landscape, the huge house, the stranger babbling at him. Miro decides to go with it. "Brilliant," he says dryly, and climbs to his feet.
Locke's eyes snap open and he looks at him with suddenly clear eyes. "I know, isn't it? At least there's no fucking Guard to deal with. That's one blessing."
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