Donovan scoffed at Noah's statement, "You think that's bad, I've seen entire cities crumble because I couldn't stop the things that caused the destruction, I've seen parts of London become flooded by the Thames, I've seen seen Fascist separatist groups kill innocents for shits and giggles, I've seen people gruesomely experimented on by aliens, I've seen a little girl who I protected for years, kill people without a second thought, I've seen zombies rip the heads off of fathers who died protecting their children, I've seen my friends die at the hands of slime monsters. How I've managed to keep sane, is beyond me!" He looked at Noah, quite frankly pissed off.
Noah glared at Donovan. "This wasn't a fucking contest. I don't care how you managed to keep sane, and I'm very sorry for your losses, but don't you listen to a sorry about mine I was baited into telling... and then fucking laugh." Looking around him, he noticed that two children were now in his presence. "Oh, sorry about the swearing, kids. 'Fuck' is a bad word, you see... don't use it."
Jones stopped, and held up a hand stiffly. "Pardon me, are you busy?" he asked the passengers in general.
Outside in the corridor, Violet sighed and muttered something obscene.
No, not a cheap repost - getting "stuck" like this is one of the Uncanny Valley aspects of some of the original "men in black" stories.
edited 21st Dec '11 6:42:24 PM by nrjxll
"Boo hoo," said Tamara to Noah. "Someone close to you dies. So sad. It's not like that could have happened to anyone here as an average part of life, no, just you. And you say you've been through things that would've killed anyone else, but it's hard to sympathize with that when you're immortal. Jonathan can heal all wounds he has in an hour, but he doesn't go on about what he's been through."
She stood up and raised her voice. "And if you've been through all that, you should consider yourself lucky that you don't have PTSD! Jonathan can't stand to hear bells because of what they remind him of! He can wade through enemies by the dozens, but deep bells trigger panic attacks in him, whereas you can talk about what you've been through easily. You are, in this case, mentally healthy." She leaned in close to him and whispered, "Be grateful."
"...Really? That is quite strange..." Ling began.
"Well, I've boarded this train because I'm on a quest of sorts, or rather, a personal mission. You see, I've made it my goal to unite this world; linguistically, culturally, politically, you catch my semance. Toki, well...I certainly wasn't going to just part ways with her when we've both been transported to an unfamiliar world. By extension, she's along for the ride." he explained.
Toki merely looked about boredly, still not understanding the conversation.
"Besides...better to have a companion for a grand journey, no?" he added with a friendly laugh. "So, what brings you aboard?"
Need a tall, brawny fella to come by and inspect your pickle? Perhaps I may be this fella."I am grateful," said Noah, "doesn't mean I like casually mentioning the death of a close one that was completely my fault... poor Liz. Even in death, the most respect the poor girl gets is a 'Boo-hoo.' She deserves better than that." You know what? Noah though to himself, screw having that Tamara girl like me by the end of this, because she isn't worth it. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need some fresh air." With that, Noah walked out of the compartment to take a breather.
"Pardon me, are you busy?" Jones asked the passengers again.
<Will you stop doing that?> Violet sent. <It's goddamn annoying.>
Jones didn't respond, instead simply staring ahead. He filed away the snippets of conversation he had overheard for later review.
Outside, Violet muttered again and turned to look at the man who had just stormed out. "Do I even want to know?" she asked flatly.
edited 21st Dec '11 7:08:06 PM by nrjxll
"That sounds like a great idea!" Hvpvdqia said, "And companions are always great for long journeys."
"As for why I'm here..." Hvpvdqia said, "it's to learn more about this world. It's very different from ours, but I've been told I need to understand this world and society better. It's just so ... complex."
Okay, to be clear on something: Jones is in the compartment. Violet is standing out in the hall.
Jones sat down, (again) stiffly. "I'm not lost," he said, turning to stare at Isaac. "I'm here to find out what you know about the flying saucers."
<Will you stop that.>
He chuckled harshly at the message and relaxed slightly. "That's a joke," he added, though his voice maintained its monotonous tone. "We all have to live to try and live up to our reputations, after all. Ha. Ha." He pivoted his head to look at everyone in the room. "But there is something... unusual going on this train, and I want to find out what you know about it. Have any of you see something... out of the ordinary?"
edited 21st Dec '11 8:07:28 PM by nrjxll
Unusual, Isaac thought. Eh, fuck it. Rule one about these kinds of motherfuckers — point 'em at shit that's giving you trouble, say fuck-all 'bout the rest.
Isaac shook his head and said, "afraid not. But I haven't really been paying much attention, so I'm not the guy to ask. Still, I get the feeling something will turn up." Wait, didn't Tamara say something about a yellow-eyed demon? Why's this weirdo running around in shades in a train?
"So, kids," he turned to Patch and Seymour. Oh, God. I'm terrible with kids. "Uh... hi?"
Modified to incorporate missed detail, for extra Fun.
edited 21st Dec '11 8:15:01 PM by KillerClowns
"Is there any organized system?" Seymour takes a sack of marbles out of his pocket, tossing it from hand to hand just to keep them busy. "For taking turns, I mean. Telling stories."
Patch tries to take the marbles from him, but he stows them back in his pocket, making her cross her arms and pout.
The last battle's curtains will open on stage!Yaaaay. Vancouver airport has wireless.
Alastair looked keenly interested, and his protectors withdrew as he stepped forward to adress Christine. "1948? How intriguing. Well, believe it or not Russia still has a Tsar. Not by title of course, this one goes by Prime Minister instead, it's far more modern. His name is Dmitry Medvedev. Just consider yourself lucky you happened to run into us and not him. Russia's taken a turn for the worse in the intervening years, even with the fall of Communism. Oh- that did happen where you're from, didn't it? The October Revolution, 1917? The Cold War? Fall of the Berlin Wall and all that? Am I ringing any bells?"
edited 21st Dec '11 8:15:05 PM by Gault
yeyChristine turned all the way around. "In 1917 I was fighting creatures of the deep on the West Coast of the United States. There was no revolution in October that specifically comes to mind."
I am now known as Flyboy."Are you sure?" Jones pressed the man, still in a monotone. "There hasn't been any kind of violent activity, persons behaving suspiciously?"
<He's hiding something.> he sent to Violet. <I can tell.>
He glanced around the room again. "Same question to all of you - has there been anything out of the ordinary on this train?"
For the record, I'm adding some details on Jones and Violet in a post on the discussion thread, for any future reference needed.
Tamara decided she'd add her two cents. "There's a man somewhere on the train. Neat black hair, nice suit, yellow eyes. Tell me if you see him, okay?"
Noah was being all angsty. Yeah, losing someone like that was sad, but he acted like he was the only person it happened to. She lost plenty of friends, but she knew that others also lost friends or family members. He needed to look at the big picture.
Tomas remained quiet as Christine and Alastair spoke. It seemed that the others had forgotten he was here, and he had absolutely no intentions of correcting them — indeed, he'd practically melted, metaphorically speaking, into a shadowy corner.
Isaac said, "eh, there was a scuffle some time back, but I ain't the one to ask." Then, looking Jones over, he asked, "seriously, though, remind me to have Sig call up his stylist. The whole glasses-at-night thing is kinda douchey. Especially when it's those f-- flippin' things — don't buy your shades at the dollar store unless you're on the beach and just plain don't care."
Okay, so if Tamara was to be believed, Jones was not the demon. Unless, like the so-called "Angels" Isaac knew of, her demon swapped bodies. And... well, this guy was clearly hiding something, even if it wasn't demonic eyes.
Then he looked over at the kids and said, "but I'm sure this guy's fashion sense aside, he looks like someone who'd have a great story or two to tell. Whaddya say, pal? Wanna tell us how you got yourself stuck on this train to the frozen ass" — whoops "— of nowhere?"
edited 21st Dec '11 8:50:44 PM by KillerClowns
KC, I'm trying to contact you over Skype. Why aren't you responding? Also, Alastair adressed Tomas in a previous post. Did you catch that?"
A look of grave concern fell across Alastair's face. "That is... that is quite the leap. If things had diverged so severely that far back..." He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, but it quickly passed and he snapped back to the moment. "You said you were figthing creatures of the deep? What were these, because there certainly weren't any incursions by fish-people in our American history."
yeyJones gave a jerky nod to the woman. "Understood."
He turned back towards the man. "I apologize, I haven't introduced myself. Clarence Jones."
He glanced over at the children. There was definitely something odd there. Add that to the list of things to investigate.
<Violet? There was an incident. Keep moving on; I'll handle things here.>

Isaac looked around and realized they had company. "Aww, f—" he glanced at the four newcomers, and noting the age of two of them, corrected, "fiddlesticks, that's what I get for joining the Story circle." Now looking genuinely embarrassed, he said, "so... uh, how long you guys been, uh, standing there?" Thank God I didn't tell that story about me, Asayu, and that thing that later turned out to be an acupuncture massage device.
Then he turned to Noah and said, "and you... well..." he looked genuinely apologetic. "Guess you got some real reasons to be keeping your cards close to your heart. Sorry 'bout that. What say we screw that tragedy-dick contest? It isn't fun when I'm not shouting out people whining about having to buy Pop Tarts instead of Toaster Strudels."