(Untitled)

[old_bum]

"Whu?"This was supposed to be the liquor store. It wasn't. It wasn't even a store. It was a ruin, a dilapidated old wreck of a building with the remains of the ceiling hanging down into the room itself in a manner that told, not suggested, that no one had been here for some time. It should, by all rights, have been the liquor store; he'd been

Comments

[but_worth_it]

How was he supposed to sleep? Rose and Jack had gone off to bed, and he had no hope of contacting Harper at this hour (such silly Earth ideas, these 'late hours' as though they weren't right on time as any other hour), so, instead, he sat in room 202, skimming through the books that sat there. Disturbing, and yet absolutely fascinating all at the same time. He got to his feet, heading outside for a break, breath of air, something.

The shout caught him off guard, and he leapt to his feet, running towards the noise.

"Are you all right? Where are you?" he called around to the buildings just outside of the wall. He didn't want to go too far out, but he didn't want to leave someone who might be hurt to their fate, either.

[old_bum]

"Hell no, I'm not all right!" he shouts back. This sounds a bit more American than the first. "What the hell is going on? Where in the bloody hell am I? Merlin? That'd better not be you, wizard..."

...he doesn't sound pleased.

[but_worth_it]

Merlin? He hadn't heard that in at least two incarnations.

"I...I've been called that before, but certainly not by someone from your dimension, or any dimension remotely related to this one," the Doctor replied, "And I'm far from a wizard, I can assure you. I am a bit of a wiz around the kitchen, though. Far from the same thing."

[old_bum]

There's a slight pause.

"Not Merlin, then."

Far too friendly.

"Some sendling of his? Or perhaps of that bitch, Morgan's?"

[talkback]

"Nowhere in particular."

Chase is leaning against a wall, absently cleaning his fingernails with his switchblade. amazing how dirty they get stuck in the Magog cells.

"Although, accordin' to the stars, we're probably in Australia."

[old_bum]

"Australia?"

He's got one eyebrow up and the other down.

"And what, prithee tell, am I doing here?"

[talkback]

"Prithee tell?"

Chase scoffs.

"What kind of an asshole says prithee tell? Are you one of them Ren Faire fairys?"

Yes, he's always this nice.

"Looks to me like your living. Get used to it, we're stuck here."

[old_bum]

He winces at himself for using the language. It always popped up when he felt out of sorts, when he couldn't keep this or that persona from covering who he really was.

He opens his arms and shows the faded Final Fantasy sweatshirt.

"This is as Ren Faire as I get, kid."

[shengge]

Simon emerges from the apartment, eyeing him.

"That's... a long story. You're new, I take it?"

[old_bum]

He raises an eyebrow.

"I'm not new to anything. I'm just wondering where they dragged me."

[shengge]

"Trust me, you're new to here. Some of us call it Apocalyptica."

[old_bum]

And his eyes do go a bit wide at that but he shucks it off after a moment.

"I've no doubt it will come, but we yet stand here."

His tone and speech shift, from typical 20th century New Yorker to archaic... well, it wasn't quite British, exactly, nor Welsh, but something along those lines.