(Untitled)

[qtr_winnebago]

Brock has discovered the dart board. This is not to say that he is throwing darts at it, though.

No. His Bowie knife is far more manly than darts. He lobs it at the board, and it hits with enough force to knock chunks from its surface.

It hits just outside of the bullseye, and Brock grunts angrily. He's getting out of practise.

Fake Tags: Brock

Comments

[scots_wolf]

A slim dagger buries itself next to the big knife, dead centre of the bullseye.

[qtr_winnebago]

Brock whips round to see who threw the dagger.

Seeing Urquhart, his first thought is that he's run into someone from Ünterland, but something seems off.

He just grunts, by way of 'hello.'

[scots_wolf]

No, he's run into somebody from the Highlands.

Originally.

"Let's try again?" Urquhart suggests.

[qtr_winnebago]

Actually, Ünterland is a small Vatican-sized country between Canada and Michigan, but it doesn't exist in very many universes outside of Brock's.

"Try what, now?" Brock asks.

[qtr_winnebago]

He turns to see the source of the grunt and the voice.

"What's the big deal? You can get them for ten bucks down at the mall."

[qtr_winnebago]

"All right, jeez," Brock says, pulling out his knife. "Keep your shirt on."

Brock has a feeling that his Licence to Kill doesn't extend to... wherever this is, so he's trying to keep a lid on everything.