(Untitled)

[stoicsidekick]

For the first time in six years, William Bush didn't feel out of place with his uniform coat draped about his shoulders. Not only did the solid, heavy wool keep out the London damp that had descended upon Tabula Rasa along with the scenery, British naval blue also fit perfectly the cobbled streets, and billowing smokestacks, and smokey pubs that

Comments

[unbellegeste]

Marie is holding her cape tight around her shoulders, her cheeks pink from the cold and her hair dusted lightly with snow. Walking around London has become something she generally very much enjoys, but along with it being cold, her feet and back are aching and she wants to sit down.

"Bonjour," she says breathlessly as the door thuds solidly shut behind her, and makes her way to the bar. "Just a cup of tea, please," she says, and the landlord gives a gruff nod and sees to it.

[unbellegeste]

"It is in France," Marie says wryly. "Perfectly respectable. And yes, I have, but mostly just back and forth. Paris to New York to Bogota and back."

[alittleofboth]

"Ah well, I heard as much from an American of a rather Bohemian sort, so I suppose her opinion was not to be trusted," he said. Though his words were derisive, there was a note of fondness in his voice. So many people gone over the years. "And have you found a way to pass the time? I fear there is little in the way of traditional anthropology here, though the little community we have here is certainly unique enough, for all its faults."

[unbellegeste]

"I've already started taking notes," Marie admits. "Though I still feel a bit like I'm dreaming--I've never time travelled before, so I've been making the most of it."

[alittleofboth]

"Do you know anyone who has?" Anthony asked dryly, though he knew that the question was more rhetorical than he would have liked it to be. There were, after all, people on the island who time traveled regularly. "What year are you from?" Sometimes Anthony could tell, but so far, he hadn't quite been able to place her point of origin, at least not with much exactness.

[unbellegeste]

"I didn't think so, but here? God knows," Marie admits with a wry smile. "I'm from 2010. Not that you'd be able to tell, in this dress."

[alittleofboth]

"Ah, quite modern, then. Usually it's easier to tell. Have you had an opportunity to meet some of our more historical residents?" He didn't immediately add that according to most people, he was one of them.

[unbellegeste]

"I'm not sure about historical," Marie says, "but I've definitely met one or two I hadn't thought was real. What about you? I think this is a question I'm going to have to get used to asking. What's your home year?"

[alittleofboth]

"It is a rather unwieldy question, isn't it?" Anthony observed with a small grimace. "A bit like asking a dowager countess her age. It was 1952 for me."

[unbellegeste]

"Before I was born," Marie concedes, "but in the grander scheme of all the people I've encountered here, it's quite modern."

[alittleofboth]

"Indeed. Though your generation still outnumbers mine enough to make me feel plenty old." His dry, self-deprecating smile betrayed the fact that there was more truth in his words than he would have liked to admit.

[unbellegeste]

"I think," Marie says, laughing softly into her teacup, "that is the purpose of having younger generations at all, no matter what year it is. I expect that even Charlemagne told his sons to look respectable and get a haircut."