Caution: watch for flying yo-yo [open]
Characters: H.M. Murdock and any who wander by.
Setting/Location: Caravan Level 2, Lobby
Date & Time: Day 1, morning
Warnings: Yo-yo usage and general lunacy? idek
Summary: Stuck in an alternate dimension? Stranded far from family and friends? Clearly, the best solution to this . . . is to practice your yo-yo skills.
The previous day had been easy enough to deal with; he'd spent most of it wandering around Sleepywoods, drinking in the unfamiliar sights and sounds, talking to a few of his strange fellow-travelers, listening in on the radio chatter on the Junogam -- it was enough to keep anyone's mind occupied, even his. The evening had been slower, but just as distracting; there was the Caravan to explore from top to bottom, familiarizing himself with the layout and the best ways to sneak out of it if needs be. He'd also made a thorough inventory of the odds and ends of junk he'd brought with him; never knew when a copy of Don Quixote or a couple of rubber bands would come in handy when you were marooned in an alternate universe.
This morning, however, he had awakened in his unfamiliar bunk to the sobering realization that he was at least a universe away from his Team. Suppose they needed to get somewhere in a hurry while he was gone? Suppose they needed air support? Suppose he needed them for backup, and didn't have them to call on? It was enough to make an unpleasant knot of tension and panic build up behind his breastbone -- the sort of knot that usually ended with him needing to drop in on his shrink. Who, joy of joys, was also at least a universe away with no direct line for phone consultations.
There was only one thing for it; avoidance, avoidance, and more avoidance. Fortunately, H.M. Murdock was the current reigning king of that particular coping strategy -- which was why he donned his sneakers, grabbed his yo-yo, and made his way to the lobby near Medical and the kitchen.
"Yeah, this'll do nicely." He grinned crookedly as he surveyed the comfortable seating area. As the Caravan woke up, there were sure to be other travelers wandering through to distract him and be distracted by him. Plus, there was more than enough space for him to practice walking-the-dog. He tugged the brim of his ball cap around until it was settled backwards on his head, cracked his knuckles, and began working through his repertoire of tricks.
Setting/Location: Caravan Level 2, Lobby
Date & Time: Day 1, morning
Warnings: Yo-yo usage and general lunacy? idek
Summary: Stuck in an alternate dimension? Stranded far from family and friends? Clearly, the best solution to this . . . is to practice your yo-yo skills.
The previous day had been easy enough to deal with; he'd spent most of it wandering around Sleepywoods, drinking in the unfamiliar sights and sounds, talking to a few of his strange fellow-travelers, listening in on the radio chatter on the Junogam -- it was enough to keep anyone's mind occupied, even his. The evening had been slower, but just as distracting; there was the Caravan to explore from top to bottom, familiarizing himself with the layout and the best ways to sneak out of it if needs be. He'd also made a thorough inventory of the odds and ends of junk he'd brought with him; never knew when a copy of Don Quixote or a couple of rubber bands would come in handy when you were marooned in an alternate universe.
This morning, however, he had awakened in his unfamiliar bunk to the sobering realization that he was at least a universe away from his Team. Suppose they needed to get somewhere in a hurry while he was gone? Suppose they needed air support? Suppose he needed them for backup, and didn't have them to call on? It was enough to make an unpleasant knot of tension and panic build up behind his breastbone -- the sort of knot that usually ended with him needing to drop in on his shrink. Who, joy of joys, was also at least a universe away with no direct line for phone consultations.
There was only one thing for it; avoidance, avoidance, and more avoidance. Fortunately, H.M. Murdock was the current reigning king of that particular coping strategy -- which was why he donned his sneakers, grabbed his yo-yo, and made his way to the lobby near Medical and the kitchen.
"Yeah, this'll do nicely." He grinned crookedly as he surveyed the comfortable seating area. As the Caravan woke up, there were sure to be other travelers wandering through to distract him and be distracted by him. Plus, there was more than enough space for him to practice walking-the-dog. He tugged the brim of his ball cap around until it was settled backwards on his head, cracked his knuckles, and began working through his repertoire of tricks.