So Matt had found a room full of video games. It had been in the middle of the night during aimless wandering; he'd scooped up an armful, taken them back to his room, and promptly fallen asleep. Now he's trying to retrace his steps, because he doesn't have nearly enough first-person shooters. (It is impossible to have enough first-person shooters.)
The prospect of limitless pixellated goodness is distracting enough that he almost doesn't hear the uncertain voice to his side. Luckily...
"Hey." Matt has never met L; he has no idea that this guy - skinny, slouching, around his own age - is the man he'd been trained from childhood to imitate, perhaps even succeed. "What's up?"
"Yeah - yeah, I'd like that. I hate having to go to stores for this stuff." Or at all, really. "Company would be good. I feel way too disconnected without any net access."
Matt flicked away his finished cigarette. "There's a village nearby, with a train station. I think there's a service to Aberdeen, but that's about it. Apart from that, we're surrounded by forests, lochs and hills and not much else."
L hasn't been outside of urban sprawl in years. The idea of not being a taxi flag away from disappearing into the background sets his teeth on edge, a little. As well connected as he is, his resources will not extend this far.
Matt gives L a curious glance. "I get it if you'd rather not answer, but... how old are you, right now? You look about the same age as me..."
He pulls open a door, pretty much at random. Nothing but a classroom. Oh well.
"The magical room of computers might be a wild goose chase after all. Going to a town's probably more sensible." Matt thinks for a moment. "The train station was pretty deserted, and I didn't see any cars in the village. Unless the place is really self-sufficient, there must be some other way of getting around..."
"We are the same age, then. Sort of. I died just before my twentieth - according to Near that was three years ago, but if people are appearing from different points of time, that might not be exactly right. What book did he get you?"
Comfortable... oh!
"Um," Matt says, aware that he's just lead L around a magical castle covered in drying butter. Whoops. "Yeah, we should try... doing something about that, huh."
((OOC: Heh - Matt would offer him use of his shower, but that happens downthread with Near, right? TIME PARADOX WHOOPS))
"That would be greatly appreciated." A little bit of a sigh in his tone. No, as mentioned, he is not precisely a germophobe, but he does like to be clean.
"It was the Double, by Dostoevsky. At Wammy's, you would probably have read Crime and Punishment, or be just about to... which way is it?"
"Up this way - there's a sort of short-cut..." He leads them up the corridor, then through one of the passages hidden by a tapestry.
Okay, so maybe some of his wandering wasn't quite that aimless.
"I remember Crime and Punishment - English was one of the classes they let Mello and I sit next to each other. God knows why..." he grins, recalling the class.
"Yeah. Good times." Mello had freaked out when he realised that he was performing two percentage points lower in that class than any others, but Matt had found that sort of funny as well, so things had worked out alright.
They turn a corner, and the passage they're walking along becomes, quite smoothly, a stepless spiral. "Yeah, I think I agree with you..." At the top of the spiral they emerge from another tapestry; down a short set of stairs, across a hall, and -
"This one's mine," Matt says, opening a door to reveal a small-but-comfortable room. There are several gaming systems and a pilfered TV set. And games, of course. A lot of games.
"And you have no objection to lending me your shower?"
L certainly hopes not. For one thing, it will afford him a few moments to process all that has happened; something that certainly needs doing, as soon as he can manage.
The prospect of limitless pixellated goodness is distracting enough that he almost doesn't hear the uncertain voice to his side. Luckily...
"Hey." Matt has never met L; he has no idea that this guy - skinny, slouching, around his own age - is the man he'd been trained from childhood to imitate, perhaps even succeed. "What's up?"
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He cannot simply drop out of existence.
"And the surrounding area is unfamiliar to me."
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Matt flicked away his finished cigarette. "There's a village nearby, with a train station. I think there's a service to Aberdeen, but that's about it. Apart from that, we're surrounded by forests, lochs and hills and not much else."
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"Scotland, you said."
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Major city centers.
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He pulls open a door, pretty much at random. Nothing but a classroom. Oh well.
"The magical room of computers might be a wild goose chase after all. Going to a town's probably more sensible." Matt thinks for a moment. "The train station was pretty deserted, and I didn't see any cars in the village. Unless the place is really self-sufficient, there must be some other way of getting around..."
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Woe is L!
"I confess. I would not be sorry to stop searching. I am still butter-coated." That isn't getting any more comfortable.
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Comfortable... oh!
"Um," Matt says, aware that he's just lead L around a magical castle covered in drying butter. Whoops. "Yeah, we should try... doing something about that, huh."
((OOC: Heh - Matt would offer him use of his shower, but that happens downthread with Near, right? TIME PARADOX WHOOPS))
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"It was the Double, by Dostoevsky. At Wammy's, you would probably have read Crime and Punishment, or be just about to... which way is it?"
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Okay, so maybe some of his wandering wasn't quite that aimless.
"I remember Crime and Punishment - English was one of the classes they let Mello and I sit next to each other. God knows why..." he grins, recalling the class.
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He imagines it must have been quite the disturbance. Oh well, the time is passed. He slips behind the tapestry, one hand on the wall.
"The architect of this place must have been a madman."
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They turn a corner, and the passage they're walking along becomes, quite smoothly, a stepless spiral. "Yeah, I think I agree with you..." At the top of the spiral they emerge from another tapestry; down a short set of stairs, across a hall, and -
"This one's mine," Matt says, opening a door to reveal a small-but-comfortable room. There are several gaming systems and a pilfered TV set. And games, of course. A lot of games.
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L certainly hopes not. For one thing, it will afford him a few moments to process all that has happened; something that certainly needs doing, as soon as he can manage.
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