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trans_92009-04-22 01:03 pm
bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92009-04-22 01:03 pm
Entry tags:
Settling In [Open]
Robert Donovan was not, to say the least, a happy man. He had awoken in a strange, disgusting place that reminded him of something from a bad pulp magazine, been dressed in some sort of creepy living clothing by tentacles (something else from a bad pulp magazine) and retrieved a few of his belongings that had somehow been here when he arrived (instead of at home, where they belonged). Fortunately, his overcoat and a belt had been there, so he had some place to put his holstered revolver and his speedloaders. But it was nowhere near enough to keep himself decent, so he was forced to continue wearing the strange, almost terrifying clothing he had been provided.
And now was staring distastefully at what he assumed was a bunk. It looked like it was breathing for Christ’s sake. He didn’t like this. Not one bit. Still…it was all probably some horrible dream and he would wake up in his own home tomorrow, safe, sound and not in some crazy science-fiction story. He sighed, then ran a hand through his hair, asking a question to the open air. “This…this is a dream? Right? It’s gotta be a dream.”
And now was staring distastefully at what he assumed was a bunk. It looked like it was breathing for Christ’s sake. He didn’t like this. Not one bit. Still…it was all probably some horrible dream and he would wake up in his own home tomorrow, safe, sound and not in some crazy science-fiction story. He sighed, then ran a hand through his hair, asking a question to the open air. “This…this is a dream? Right? It’s gotta be a dream.”
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The Middleman took the hand, shaking it firmly.
"Good to meet you Robert."
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