It had been a dungeon in those dark ages after humans had overcome the pure vampire race. Now, hundreds of years later, it was rumoured to be housing an abnormal with a taste for roaming tourist bone marrow. Not the rest of them, and the remains they'd found hadn't been appealing
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Comments 63
Hiroto has a song stuck in his head. And some stupid monster ruined his headphones a few nights ago.
He also noticed the glint off her gun when she still had it out, and has been moving closer out of curiosity. His wings are out under the coat, but he knows she's a wanderer before his spider demon sense tells him that, from the way she's trying her phone and the look on her face. Besides, it's pretty rare that normal humans flail about on street corners with guns -- those who do are usually way more interesting that normal humans ( ... )
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Her hand drifted to the butt of her gun, not pulling it free from the holster. Not yet. It doesn't mean that Ashley's relaxes her guard, not in the least as she looked the man over warily. Head to toe and back, not hiding the inspection.
"Lost would make sense,' she said, almost glancing at what was around her but unwilling to take her gaze off of him for more than a moment. "If I was lost though, where would I be?"
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He shrugs, looking at the city around them. He keeps her in his peripheral vision, sure, but he's not as spooked as she. "Not-your-Chicago," he says, then goes right back to staring blankly at her. "You are..." He searches for the right words, realizes he doesn't know them all in English (still), and goes for blunt instead, "a wanderer, here."
Well, maybe it'd be blunt if she knew even remotely what that meant.
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Strangers don't know what she's been through. They don't look at her with sorry in their eyes or look to her for answers. They don't notice her at all. Ironically, she likes that.
She likes walking out on the street and being anyone other than Martha Jones.
However, she stops at the sight of the woman, leaning against the building. She can never quite keep herself from caring about the well being of other people.
"Are you alright?"
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Proper wasn't exactly Ashley's cup of tea anyway.
"That would mean defining alright. Physically, I'm alive and not bleeding." Yet Ashley paused, looking up at the sky for a second before looking back at the woman. She frowned. "Least I think I'm alive. Not sure I thought this is what the afterlife would look like."
Despite her words, there was a small smile curving the blonde's lips. Her hands rested easily on the belt at her waist, shoulders rolling beneath the jacket she wore.
"Just a little lost, that's all." Or a lot.
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"Well, that's one thing at least," she says with a small smile of her own, and then she hesitates.
The other woman is mentioning the afterlife and being lost.
There are very few explanations for this. Martha has been here long enough that it only takes a few seconds for her to figure it out.
"Let me take a wild guess, and if it's not true, feel free to think I'm crazy." It wouldn't be the worst. "Were you just in another place entirely and then against your will, you've ended up on this sidewalk?"
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