(Untitled)

[jack_artful]

It wasn’t until Dodger had tumbled out of bed, hopped to the front door tugging his trousers on, stumbled outside with his hat in hand, shirt, waistcoat, cravat, and coat loose, rumpled, and untucked, and staggered out to Millbank street, with Westminster Abbey to his left, and the Thames in from him, that he realized something wasn’t right.  It

Comments

[haolehothead]

Danny's still getting adjusted to the clothes, but they follow a pretty straightforward principle for a guy already used to suits. Pants, jacket, coat, with another coat considering it's pretty damn cold and his blood still runs icy from Jersey, but it's gonna take a bit to adjust. "Look at you," he calls out to Jack. "You look right at home, kiddo."

[jack_artful]

Dodger whipped around at the sound of Danny's voice, and was surprised by the immense wave of relief he felt. Somebody he knew, and grudgingly was starting to trust, was here with him in the snow, and wasn't melting away into the background. He gripped the man's forearm, cold fingers pale against his coat, almost testing that he was real. "It's close, my eyes, it's near 'ome. But it ain't."

[haolehothead]

Danny gives Jack a bemused look when he grips onto his coat. "Okay, well, it looks a little like the London streets I saw, but definitely not the ones from modern day," he admits. "But I definitely remember these street names and some of the buildings. Rachel would kill me if I ever forgot."

[jack_artful]

"More phantoms, for one." And those terrified him - if they were the manifestation of departed souls, as everyone said, then Nancy could be one of them, as could Bill, and that was enough for the blood to freeze in his veins colder than the snow. "Out of place buildings and things, for another."

[haolehothead]

"Hey, come on, I know this is your thing, but how about we walk, give our bodies a chance to adjust to the cold, yeah?" Danny figures if they're moving, at least they have a chance to keep Jack from feeling too uneasy. "You liking this? It's a return home, kind of, right?"

[jack_artful]

"Cor, kind of. Plenty strange, like a bad mirror that don't show right." He remembered his rushed exit, and, aware of his appearance, especially in this part of town where he already stuck out like a sore thumb, went about sorting out his tucking in and buttons. "'Ow are you 'ere? You ain't goin' to tell me to move on, aye?"

[haolehothead]

"Me? I woke up in an apartment instead of my hut, in a four poster bed, and all my clothes were replaced," Danny says, trying to get over the disbelief of it all, but truth be told, he's having some trouble. "I mean, first, I thought time travel. Then I realized I was being an idiot and reminded myself that this place likes to pull jokes."

[jack_artful]

Dodger blinked, but then it did seem to all fall into place. If this was some sort of Island magic and trickery, then it explained the differences, the phantoms, and the Homestead cropping up on Millbank rather than the school that was supposed to be there. If the Island could sprout up a carnival and toys coming to life, surely making a replica of London was not outside of its reach. Dodger expected a rush of disappointment at not being back in London, where he came from, where he belonged, but it never came. Instead, all he felt was relief that this was still the Island in some shape and form, with all the people from it

[haolehothead]

"Well, for the sake of my nostrils, thank god it doesn't smell as bad as it ought to," he says, definitive in his attitude that he's extremely happy with this fact. "I mean, but other than that. Other than the smell not being dead on and the fog being a weak, wispy, thin thing, how are you feeling with this? I mean, it's gotta be more like home."

[jack_artful]

"I thought..." Dodger didn't really have a reason to keep it to himself, but he somehow felt that if he said out loud that it would make it that much more permanent a feeling. And there was something sad in not wanting to go back, when Dodger had taken such pride in knowing those streets better than anyone. "I thought it was my London, at first?" The way he said it as a question, hesitant, made him sound for once like boy he still was. He wasn't looking at Danny, instead out at the white snow, which was never really that white in actual London, but instead turned grey with the soot and the fog by the time it reached the ground.

"But I'm ain't sorry that it's not." That had some of Dodger's determined grit to it, just a bit colouring the words.

[haolehothead]

"Okay, okay, hold on." Danny squints and tries to work through the various negatives, double-negatives, and possibly triple-negatives of that sentence. "So, are you happy to be here or you're happy that it's looking like home or...what? You gotta help me out a little, here."

[jack_artful]

Dodger did meet his eyes then, frustrated - he couldn't get any more plain English than that. The Queen couldn't say it much more clearer than that. "I should want it to be 'ome - but I ain't disappointed that it isn't. And I should be disappointed, aye? But I ain't!" The more he repeated it, the more emphatic he got.

[haolehothead]

"Okay, okay, hold your horses, I got it this time," Danny promises, nodding with his head to the nearest building. "Hey, what do you say we go inside and grab something to eat? I'm starved and freezing. All this time in the tropics has made me weak when it comes to the cold."

[jack_artful]

Given the haunting familiarity of his surroundings, even if they were not-quite-right, Dodger realized his stomach had the old pinched feeling of constant hunger and irregular meals - even if he was certain that he'd had a sizeable dinner the night before. "Aye." He shoved a hand under his hat to dig his fingers into his hair, before righting it with the brim. "You got any money?"

[haolehothead]

"What, why would I have money?" Danny asks with a snort, turning out his empty pockets considering that it's been a long time since he's had to use any kind of currency -- which, thankfully, has kept Danny's mind off how pathetically broke he is at home.

[jack_artful]

"It's London, ain't it, even if it's an Island-London?" He explained, his fingers twitching in his deep jacket pockets, because acquiring things without money was his specialty. "Everythin' 'as a price, unless you take it without payin' it." He was certain of that, or at least he had been a second ago, now he wasn't so sure - things were free on the Island, but he was finding it difficult to imagine anything being without cost with these sorts of surroundings.