Settling In [Open]

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

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.”

Comments

[cowsquirtdrinkr.livejournal.com]

"I'm afraid it's very real, unfortunately."

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

Robert glanced at the other man, raising an eyebrow as he appraised him.

"That's...not very comforting."

[cowsquirtdrinkr.livejournal.com]

"That's about as comforting as it gets actually. Much as I'd rather not cause anyone any undue stress, letting people believe they're dreaming won't help the situation any. I'm the Middleman, by the way."

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

"The Middleman? What, no name?" Robert chuckled quietly and shook his head, extending a hand towards the other.

"Robert Donovan."

[cowsquirtdrinkr.livejournal.com]

"Oh, I have one. It's just tradition for a Middleman to stop using their original name once they inherit the position from the previous Middleman."

The Middleman took the hand, shaking it firmly.

"Good to meet you Robert."

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

"I...I see. What is it that Middlemen do?"

[cowsquirtdrinkr.livejournal.com]

"Fight comic-book-style evil. You know, mad-scientists, vampires. zombies, aliens, robot uprisings, that sort of stuff. Well, not vampires anymore. One of the previous Middlemen, who you would know better as Abraham Van Helsing, killed them all in the late 1800's. But the other examples pretty much fall in the area of things we deal with."

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

"...seriously? You do that sort of thing? I mean, you're not jerking me around, right?" Robert is obviously having a bit of a hard time swallowing this.

[pie-bitches.livejournal.com]

So Dean is currently in the habit of avoiding the Med Bay for now, after his last conversation with Sam, so he's got no choice but to hang out in the bunks. Which is not exactly his idea of a relaxing thing.

He's kicking a bunk to see if it snaps at him when a voice speaks up, and Dean's gaze snaps up to look. The man looks vaguely harmless, but Dean's still on his guard.

However, there's a grin on his face when he answers.

"Nope, not a dream. Pretty sucktastic dream, if you ask me."

[cowsquirtdrinkr.livejournal.com]

"Yes, scout's honor. It's all the truth."

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

Robert glances at the young man, sighs heavily.

"Yeah, I think I figured that out. It's more like a nightmare, really. Trapped on some strange...thing. In the middle of God-knows-where."

[pie-bitches.livejournal.com]

"The only thing that really bugs me is the food." Dean shrugs, still grinning. "Have you seen the stuff? Friggin' nasty."

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

"I haven't seen it yet, I have to admit. Can't be worse then army food, right?" Robert, ever the optimist.

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

"Uh...wow. Right."

[pie-bitches.livejournal.com]

"Heh, I'm assuming you've got experience with it?" Dean laughs. "I wouldn't really know, but the food here's basically, literal slop, so."

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

"Literal slop? Surely, you can't be serious." Robert is liking this place less and less the more he sees of it.

[pie-bitches.livejournal.com]

"See, that's what I said." Dean agrees. "So, you in the army?"

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

Robbie shakes his head.

"Used to be. Back in the Second World War and all." He grins. "I used to be a cop, now I'm a PI."

[pie-bitches.livejournal.com]

"World War II?" Pause, and Dean gives him a once over. "Jeeze, how old are you?"

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

Robbie raises an eyebrow.

"...I'm forty-three."

[pie-bitches.livejournal.com]

"Alright then, nice to see the culture gap is still in place." Dean says a bit sarcastically. "So you're forty three, and you were in World War II, which means you gotta be a bit behind in the times. What year was it when you left?"

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

Robbie frowns.

"Behind the times? What do you mean? And it was nineteen sixty-three."

[aworldnevermade.livejournal.com]

"It's disgusting," Meluly says, eying Robert's overcoat somewhat enviously—it's what drew her in the first place. "I'm not sleeping here."

She's not wearing one of the bizarre suits herself, interestingly... instead, she's stolen a silk drape from one of the city's buildings and wrapped it around herself like a toga.

[pie-bitches.livejournal.com]

"Meaning I'm from two thousand nine, man. Nineteen sixty-three is a bit behind the times."

[bostonbeatcop.livejournal.com]

Robert blinks, mouth agape for a moment before he recovers.

"Two thousand nine?! That's...you're pulling my leg, aren't you?" A pause. "Then again, it's just as believable as space ships and...breathing clothes." He looks at the provided suit distastefully.