Sergeant Rick Doyle || 28 Weeks Later (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fuckthemission) wrote2012-03-14 05:06 pm
fuckthemission) wrote2012-03-14 05:06 pm
Entry tags:
01 | Action/Voice | I am trapped in a storybook I just know it.
[Action]
[Doyle doesn't wake up slowly; his eyes are open in an instant, and he's staring at a normal sky edged with canopy. It's a little awkward by the fact that he's on a bench in the middle of town. When he looks around and sees wings, and then sees some of you in medieval armor, clothes from the 1800's, or non-human creatures altogether? He lays there for a long while, not bothering to inspect why he's here. Because obviously, none of it's real.
Nope.
He laughs dryly at the air, shaking his head, because wow. Clearly the fire didn't kill him. He's just lying somewhere trapped in a horrifying fever dream before the gas gets to him.
Nope, nope, nope. Cannot deal with this right now. Too tired to budge, anyway. He takes the discarded magazine on the backrest and drapes it over his face, sighing as he folds his arms over his chest. For being a horrible hallucination, he sure feels half-naked and cold.]
I'm not here. Not here.
[He'll sit up after a while and eventually just... watch everyone. Especially those who don't look like they're from 21st century earth. No offense to you guys, he's just confused and trying to figure out how sane he is. And he'll either be set straight by someone who knows this place or he'll come to by himself, but he finally gets off his ass and goes to the clothing store. They were nice enough to let him wear his dogtags right when he woke up, at least. Hits up the bar, too, because.... because. When he speaks up to the weird ass journal he's got, he's only very slightly tipsy. Which is good, because you'll get less overwhelmed responses.]
[Voice]
So. It's really true, is it? The whole... 'other world' thing?
[A pause. He sloshes around the beer in his bottle, as his gaze flicks from the bar to the journal.]
I like it. This whole set-up, it's damn fine with me, good and bad points combined; a lot better than being stuck in my world where your own family and friends could turn around and gnaw your nose off. The longer I'm away from viruses and possible crazy apocalyptic bullshit, the better.
Just wish there was some way of checking in on the people who're still left behind. [Yep, 'left behind'. That's what it feels like, okay? Even if America was alright last he checked, there was a Code Red. Who knows what European countries were fucked. Hopefully the spread was contained well enough. Hopefully.]
Right. Anyway, I'm Sergeant Doyle; Rick Doyle. [Wait.] I guess the 'sergeant' part doesn't really matter anymore... But hey. Cheers, anyway.
[Now he's just got to settle mentally. He'll work on it. Until then, he's staying at the bar to get his head on straight and read through the journals.]
[Doyle doesn't wake up slowly; his eyes are open in an instant, and he's staring at a normal sky edged with canopy. It's a little awkward by the fact that he's on a bench in the middle of town. When he looks around and sees wings, and then sees some of you in medieval armor, clothes from the 1800's, or non-human creatures altogether? He lays there for a long while, not bothering to inspect why he's here. Because obviously, none of it's real.
Nope.
He laughs dryly at the air, shaking his head, because wow. Clearly the fire didn't kill him. He's just lying somewhere trapped in a horrifying fever dream before the gas gets to him.
Nope, nope, nope. Cannot deal with this right now. Too tired to budge, anyway. He takes the discarded magazine on the backrest and drapes it over his face, sighing as he folds his arms over his chest. For being a horrible hallucination, he sure feels half-naked and cold.]
I'm not here. Not here.
[He'll sit up after a while and eventually just... watch everyone. Especially those who don't look like they're from 21st century earth. No offense to you guys, he's just confused and trying to figure out how sane he is. And he'll either be set straight by someone who knows this place or he'll come to by himself, but he finally gets off his ass and goes to the clothing store. They were nice enough to let him wear his dogtags right when he woke up, at least. Hits up the bar, too, because.... because. When he speaks up to the weird ass journal he's got, he's only very slightly tipsy. Which is good, because you'll get less overwhelmed responses.]
[Voice]
So. It's really true, is it? The whole... 'other world' thing?
[A pause. He sloshes around the beer in his bottle, as his gaze flicks from the bar to the journal.]
I like it. This whole set-up, it's damn fine with me, good and bad points combined; a lot better than being stuck in my world where your own family and friends could turn around and gnaw your nose off. The longer I'm away from viruses and possible crazy apocalyptic bullshit, the better.
Just wish there was some way of checking in on the people who're still left behind. [Yep, 'left behind'. That's what it feels like, okay? Even if America was alright last he checked, there was a Code Red. Who knows what European countries were fucked. Hopefully the spread was contained well enough. Hopefully.]
Right. Anyway, I'm Sergeant Doyle; Rick Doyle. [Wait.] I guess the 'sergeant' part doesn't really matter anymore... But hey. Cheers, anyway.
[Now he's just got to settle mentally. He'll work on it. Until then, he's staying at the bar to get his head on straight and read through the journals.]
action
No one really knows. The ones who kidnapped us and put us in this enclosure say it's a natural shift - a natural event - and other people think the Malnosso are the ones who bring us to this world in the first place.
Whatever the reason, our worlds freeze for us the moment we leave so you don't need to worry about missing things or the world turning without you.
action
Should I just take your word on this, or is there a... book or something I should look at for reference?
action
You can find the Guide in there. It's written by a woman named Raine Sage and updated periodically with information.
action
Thanks. So...
People talk through a book.
[And you're totally fine with this.]
action
oops]
Mmhm~ Strange, isn't it? It took me a long time to get used to it.
[Souji takes his own book out and jots down a note in a loose piece of paper hidden inside.]
But it's very handy for talking to people far away. We don't have anything like that in my country. [Pause] Or time.
action
action
Ooh, close. The 1860s.
And if they couldn't, I wouldn't be here~
[He motions for the man to follow and starts off across the plaza toward the stores.]
action
But he folds his arms and follows anyway, because it's not like this smells of any danger whatsoever. And if it's real? Then he's got a lot to do and think about. No time to stand around gaping.]
Alrighty. So does the 1860's guy have a name?
action
He does, but isn't it polite to introduce yourself first, future guy?
action
action
It's nice to meet you, Doyle-san. My name is Okita Souji-- [Well, since he gave his title, Souji might as well reciprocate.] --Captain of the First Unit of the Shinsengumi.
action
[He's quiet for a moment, because wait-]
Shinsengumi, huh... ? Sounds kinda' familiar.
[Doyle read a lot about different groups and militaries from other countries; it was sort of his only real bookish pastime. But it's been since high school since he's even bothered with any old historic groups outside of the US.]
Re: action
If you insist. And you know of us?
action
action
Yes. Sky blue with mountain stripes. I still wear it when on duty here.
[He opens the door.]
This is where you can find your clothing.
action
I think I'll just go clothes hunting, anyway. I don't have anything I wear that I'm particularly attached to, besides my uniform. And it's not really the kind of comfort-wear for daily life.
[He slips off the haori, offering it in a fist once he's inside.]
Thanks for that.
action
So long as the clothes don't seem to be arrange into an outfit, most of the things in there can be taken without worry.
[Although, before he goes.]
Do you believe you're here now, though?
action [1/2]
... I don't know.
action
We'll see, won't we? Hallucinations can't last forever.
[He hopes.]
action
Do you like tea? Or that black bitter drink?
action
Not that he has the energy to care much. He closes his eyes.]
Coffee.
I could use a few cups.
action
He smiles.]
Coffee. Alright. While you are looking, I will find some for you. Be back soon~
[He turns and skips off. Yes. Skips. Well, sort of. It looks like he's skipping and he practically is.]
action [1/2]
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Well, that was fast.
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