(Untitled)

[jack_artful]

It wasn’t until Dodger had tumbled out of bed, hopped to the front door tugging his trousers on, stumbled outside with his hat in hand, shirt, waistcoat, cravat, and coat loose, rumpled, and untucked, and staggered out to Millbank street, with Westminster Abbey to his left, and the Thames in from him, that he realized something wasn’t right.  It

Comments

[haolehothead]

Danny's still getting adjusted to the clothes, but they follow a pretty straightforward principle for a guy already used to suits. Pants, jacket, coat, with another coat considering it's pretty damn cold and his blood still runs icy from Jersey, but it's gonna take a bit to adjust. "Look at you," he calls out to Jack. "You look right at home, kiddo."

[jack_artful]

Dodger whipped around at the sound of Danny's voice, and was surprised by the immense wave of relief he felt. Somebody he knew, and grudgingly was starting to trust, was here with him in the snow, and wasn't melting away into the background. He gripped the man's forearm, cold fingers pale against his coat, almost testing that he was real. "It's close, my eyes, it's near 'ome. But it ain't."

[haolehothead]

Danny gives Jack a bemused look when he grips onto his coat. "Okay, well, it looks a little like the London streets I saw, but definitely not the ones from modern day," he admits. "But I definitely remember these street names and some of the buildings. Rachel would kill me if I ever forgot."

[jack_artful]

"More phantoms, for one." And those terrified him - if they were the manifestation of departed souls, as everyone said, then Nancy could be one of them, as could Bill, and that was enough for the blood to freeze in his veins colder than the snow. "Out of place buildings and things, for another."

[goingtodorking]

She creeps up behind him and waits for a moment before she taps him on the shoulder. Her dress crinkles a little bit. She's not sure that she likes it yet. She gives him a quick hug from behind before she moves around him.

"Is this London?"

[jack_artful]

It was hard to wrap his mind around, that he could be in his own old town, but still have her beside him. Still, he was immensely relived that somebody he recognized was here - this odd London was so similar, but unnervingly different, and the phantoms weren't helping.

"Hullo, Kare." He said, wrapping an arm around her, keeping her close. "Glad you're 'ere, I am. Sure looks it, but it don't en-ti-er-ly match my knowing of it."

[goingtodorking]

Her arm slips around his waist. She's not old enough to feel self-conscious about it. She tips her head back, looking at the tall tops of the buildings. She frowns and glances across at him.

"What's wrong with it?"

[jack_artful]

He pointed across at the towers, one with a clock in it. "I watched a building in that place burn down, I did. Flames e'rywhere, for hours. Now it's all built up again, new." He nodded to the garden. "'N that was wharves 'n marsh. Aside from all the phantoms, of course."

[a_swan_diver]

Bella wandered out of the Homestead, pulling and yanking on the dress she'd tried to get on and wobbling on shoes she hadn't been able to get laced. Yeah, she'd been warned, but looking like Charlotte Bronte had come into her room and swapped clothes with her was something altogether different.

She tripped over a seam in the sidewalk, still trying to get over the geographic changes as well as the clothing ones, when she spied a woman coming towards her. She'd never seen her before, but most people here were friendly. She smiled and held a hand out, "excuse me?"

Her jaw dropped when the woman walked away without a word or glance. "Well, crap."

[jack_artful]

Dodger didn't notice the woman among the phantoms until she tripped, and when he moved towards her, his attention caught, she didn't fade away, and seemed to be just as unnerved looking as he did, even if her clothing did look normal enough. "Hullo, missus," his fingers reflexively tipped the brim of his hat, "you ain't a phantom, are you?" He asked, hopeful.

[a_swan_diver]

Bella looked up at the familiar voice, relieved to find a face she knew from the Homestead. "Not last time I checked, Dodger. Probably look weird as anything in this mess, though, don't I?" She laughed. "The last time I wore a dress was my mom's wedding a few years ago, and even then, it wasn't the best idea."

[jack_artful]

"That you, Miss Bella?" He said, wondrous - he'd thought she looked familiar, but the clothing had kept him from recognizing her. He was getting used to ladies in trousers and short skirts, but he was somewhat relived to see women dressed the way they should be again. "No, you look tops. Fine togs, those are. Nicely made, 'n all."

[waltsnothereman]

That year's regularly-scheduled winter change in scenery was proving to be far more thorough than it had in Wanda's prior experiences. The collection of skirts and underskirts and far too confusing tops that her already limited wardrobe had become, in particular, had posed something of a challenge, and as a result, she was getting a much later start on her explorations than she would have liked.

"Oh, hey there. At least someone around here doesn't look completely out of place," she said when, distracted in her attempts to sketch a rough map of the place for comparison purposes as she wandered, she nearly walked right into that one strangely proper kid.

[jack_artful]

It took him a moment, finding it difficult to place Island faces given the familiar scenery and clothing. "Hullo, missus!" Dodger tipped his hat, relieved that she wasn't another phantom. "What are you doin' 'ere, if it's not Im-positioning you to ask?"

[waltsnothereman]

"Here as in this particular street, or in a more general sense?" Wanda asked, never one to answer a question unasked unless it gave her an opportunity to show off or something along those lines.

[jack_artful]

"Well, I ain't meanin' phil-o-sophic'lly." Dodger said, figuring that she'd have to be pretty dense not to realize that waking up with the surroundings all changed was what he was talking about.

[spirited_lissie]

Well, the garmets weren't as bad or confining as Felicity would've worn back home, and she had managed to arrange the simplest set she could find.

That didn't mean she welcomed the return of stays, or that the boots made walking difficult, but it was a slight less fussier than the rest of what the island-city-provided for her in way of clothing.

"Dodge!" She couldn't believe how grateful she was to see a familar face, especially in such a place that was not only large but everyone seemed like a phandom..or a hologram.

She ran over as best she could without slipping on her boots, grateful that atleast her skirt was of a manageable length.

"Where are we? The accents sound like London, but not the London I'm used to." She wrapped the brown frock coat tighter around her.

[jack_artful]

"Blimey, it ain't my London either, but it's close." He put a hand on her shoulder, with the sort of easy physicality he didn't think of with other children. "That's Westminster, that way, the abbey over there, the Thames yonder." He looked across the garden, to the river, and wondered with a twist in his stomach what Fagin's den would look like if he tracked it down in Spitalfields.

[spirited_lissie]

She didn't think much of his hand on her shoulder, just appreciated that atleast one of them had an idea of where they were.

Felicity looked around, trying to not feel as 'small' as she felt. The most she'd ever seen of such buildings was the compound and the Governor's palace.

"I've never been anywhere outside of Virginia, not if you count the island." She thought a moment. "Maybe..if this is still the 'island', do you suppose we could try to go places that we couldn't go before? Like exploring."

She'd leave it up to him on which places those were.

[jack_artful]

"Prob-ly is," Dodger said, and he would've thought he'd feel a rush of disappointment at realizing this was part of the island's magic rather than actually London, but the feeling never materialized. He suddenly realized that he didn't want to go back to his own London - and he'd have to give that a think-over later.

"If we do," he said, remembering his manners, "you'd best take my arm, miss Fe-licity." He held out his crooked arm. It wasn't just manners- he knew London, and a lady shouldn't travel alone. It wasn't just to stay proper, but he knew the sort of denziens that lurked in the darker doorways of the city.