Somebody knows, somebody's seen. Somebody knows right where you've been.

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark is in a tree.

Yes, you read that right. This would make a great deal of sense if he were a ferret and some sense if he were a tiger, but, at the present moment, he is a person. In a tree.

No, he really doesn't want to talk about it, but he suspects he's going to have to. Apparently, he was taking a walk through the park, contemplating whimsy

Comments

[gotbottle]

There's a man. In the tree.

Rachel thought she was just seeing things when she first glimpsed him on high from further down the path. But as she neared the tree it became clear that, yes, she was in fact seeing a man sitting up in a tree.

She pauses at the bottom, tucking her hair behind her ears as she looks up. Does he mean to be up there? What if he's a wanderer, just spit out by the rift? It dumped her on a statue, after all.

She clears her throat politely, calling up to him. "Hello? Hi. Everything okay up there, sir?"

[sarkraticmethod]

There was a branch there where Sark is trying to stick his foot, one hand gripped tightly around a higher branch so that if he slips, he doesn't... Totally plummet to his death. That branch appears to be gone now.

...And now the peanut gallery is here. He heaves a long-suffering sigh and pulls his foot back. "Other than my wounded pride, everything is perfectly fine."

Except for the fact that he's apparently become the cat that can easily get up a tree and can't... Quite get down it again. Rachel does not need to know this, however.

[gotbottle]

Rachel nods up at him, the little mmm sound she makes every bit as sympathetic as the little frown she offers. "Sorry. That totally sucks. I had my pride hurt once, too. By a statue. It happens."

She pauses a moment, trying to figure out how to delicately phrase the question she wants to ask. "So. Uh. I'm, like. Gonna ask you a question. And I want you to understand that I don't mean anything by it, nor am I suggesting anything's wrong, or that you've done something you shouldn't. I just was wondering... did you mean to be up a tree? And did you consent?"

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark stops fumbling for the nearest branch and the nearest place to put his foot without horrible death and just stares down at her, like he's wondering if she's just saying things... Or possibly crazy. He just shakes his head and goes back to working on getting down.

Ah-ha! Victory in lower branches.. Which is almost completely fucked up when he's caught off-guard by the phrasing of that question. He makes a huh noise, nearly misses the branch he's grabbing for and winds up, rather awkwardly splayed with his feet braced against one branch and his hands gripping the nearest branch behind him.. Which happens to be almost an arms length above him. This is starting to look like the world's most ridiculous acrobatic display, but he hasn't killed himself yet, so... There's that

[prince_stupid]

Have one (1) very lost Ragnar, Marshall! He's rather exasperated with himself at the moment. He feels he should know his way around the building by now, even if it does give off enough weird vibes to be its own magnetic pole.

He sits in the doorway, listening to Marshall humming a merry little tune. "You have had, I think, a good day."

Captain Obvious has just swung up broadsides to the dock.

[akablackkitty]

Black Kitty meet... The black kitty. Marshall looks up from his work in surprise, but, unfortunately, he's looking up and given he hasn't really spent a lot of time in the vicinity of talking cats, he has absolutely no idea that he should look down about now.

"Uh... Hello?" He says, wheeling his chair closer to the door. No one here but him... And the cat in the door. That he has failed to notice. Sometimes Marshall misses the bigger picture a lot, but, in his defense, here there be ghosts. Or the Tower might be trying to make him its bitch too.

[prince_stupid]

Ragnar blinks. He looks back, then up at Marshall. "Is there someone else to whom you wish to speak? I can say this with some assurance--there are no ghosts in the vicinity at present."

[akablackkitty]

Marshall finally looks down.

See Marshall. See Marshall stare. STARE, MARSHALL, STARE.

"Oh, uh... Hi... Kitty."

Cat. Cat who talks like Sark. Cat who talks, in general. This is odd.

And then he remembers that there was a question there and he shakes his head. "Oh no... I'm just, uh, not used to cats talking."

[chimaerasaurus]

Abby has just finished work, and is wandering the Kashtta with Rex on her shoulder. She steps into the kitchen, a stack of papers under one arm as she croons to the little dinosaur, apparently not noticing Jack.

That lasts for about five seconds. As soon as she sees the man at the table, she shuts up. Quickly, to make herself look busy, she scratches Rex under the chin and heads for the fridge.

[stopdropanddie]

Sometimes Jack wonders why he bothers attempting to keep whatever this relationship is, considering it only ends in awkwardness, but if she's going to insist on behaving like a scared rabbit whenever he's around.

He sighs, after taking a sip of his coffee, "Ms. Maitland, are we just going to continue this dance forever?"

[chimaerasaurus]

One bleach-blonde eyebrow arcs up in surprise, though she can't really answer as her mouth is full of stolen chocolate muffin. She pauses long enough to swallow and lick her lips before straightening up and giving him a patented Abby Maitland Look of Whatthefuck over the fridge door.

"Abby," she says. This is an answer to your question Jack. Really. It is.

[stopdropanddie]

Have one Jack Bristow lineface in retaliation, Abby. H

e doesn't really say anything, because, okay, you know what? He doesn't care. She can go on seething at him for whatever reason and they can get under each other's skin forever and it won't really matter. However, considering it's doing neither of them any good, the best course of action would probably be to... Deal with it.

But whatever. He'll just go back to reading his journal and if Abby would like to enter the sharing circle, then she may.

[cyfor]

Cy is below a tree.

Specifically, she is below Sark's tree, gazing up at him with goldenrod eyes. "You're stuck."

Without saying anything else, she digs her claws into the bark of the tree and shimmies up nearly as quick as a squirrel, though she almost loses her grip near the top. She perches on a branch just out of reach and tilts her head at him. "Why're you stuck?"

[sarkraticmethod]

"I am not stuck." The response comes before Sark really registers who is making that observation and when he looks down and notes that it's Cy, he just rolls his eyes and works on trying to get back down just to spite her.

...Except now there is a Cy in a tree. He glowers at her. "I'm not stuck."

He can get down anytime he wants! Just watch him! He proceeds to demonstrate this... Or proceeds to attempt to do this, but very nearly loses his balance- thank God, for good reflexes.

As far as ideas go, this wasn't really the best. He continues to blame Dmitri.

[cyfor]

She watches him with interest, mimicking his not-quite-flaily attempts to get down from the tree, and then resettling on her branch as he stops trying.

"You're stuck," she says, and from anyone else the delight would sound malicious. As it is, it just sounds like Cy. She jumps down to a lower branch, almost falls off, and then digs her claws in. "I'm better at trees than you."

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark continues to glare at her and wonders if it's wrong to push a cat out of a tree when the cat deserves it. She'll probably land on her feet. He decides against it, because he has enough problems without becoming 'the bastard who pushed a cat out of a tree.'

"Forgive me for stating the obvious, but you're a cat."

And so is he... Sometimes. He's pretty sure being a tiger would not make this tree easier to climb down.

[the_vesmier]

The Vesmier is out for a walk, risky as it may be, but he hasn't been disturbed by the CLF recently and there are a dearth of things in this city which can occupy his attention. The TARDIS has wandered off and he's intending to track her down to see about going through her library of reading materials, when he finds...

Sark. In a tree.

...well, this is at least somewhat familiar, even though the last time, if memory serves, it was April up in branches. Which might serve as an explanation for how Sark found himself in a similar state.

He pauses under the tree, folding his hands into his sleeves and directing an inquisitive glance upward. "Mr. Sark."

[sarkraticmethod]

...Oh, this is perfect.

"Vesmier," he replies, keeping his tone even, despite the fact that it's occupying all of his attention to balance on this tree branch and not... Fall to his death. As far as ways to die go, that one's not high on his list.

He shifts, still working on getting down. "There is a perfectly logical explanation for this."

Because he's sure the Vesmier would care if there wasn't, except for the part where he probably wouldn't.

[the_vesmier]

The Vesmier is very good at hiding his amusement. There's only a hint on his face.

"Those I know who seem to favor arboreal vantages rarely seem to require one," he says. "Though you seem less at ease there than either April or the Doctor."

He'd offer to help Sark down, but... he's the Vesmier. Knowing how to get into and out of trees does not exactly come with the territory.

[sarkraticmethod]

"It was never anything I found to be particularly advantageous," he mutters, which is sort of an answer. "I was informed that there was some appeal in it, so I thought I'd see for myself." First his left foot, right behind the other, and... Ha! Well, that's one branch conquered, although with the side effect of getting smacked in the head with the branch above him. He grimaces and glowers at the branch with a hatred reserved for people, not the local flora.

"However, as far as attempts to invoke more whimsy in my life go, I'm finding that this was hardly the best choice." Maybe he should get that sign Dmitri mentioned... Or maybe he should just shoot himself in the face and save himself some trouble.