edge_of_forever | (no subject)

Twenty-four hours doesn't sound like a long time, but when you're too frightened and furious to sleep through much of it, it feels like an age. By the time Tonks finds herself deposited into the big round room, she's irritable, drained and desperate to find someone who can tell her what was going on. She feels naked without her wand, but there's nothing for it-- she has to find out more information, and to do that, she's going to have to explore.

The space station Proserpina, huh? She knows about Muggles traveling into space, of course, but had never thought it would affect her. She still wouldn't believe it if she hadn't looked out the windows and seen the star-struck darkness for herself. The view was enough to distract her, but not for long. She'd spent her worry and fright in the quarantine cell and was now too tired to be anything but wary. If something's going to come out and get her, well, there's not much she can do to stop it.

It burns like acid in her throat, knowing what's happening back home-- or not knowing, as the case may be-- it sharpens her focus as she moves through the hallways, taking a catalogue of her surroundings. Constant vigilance. It's rarely out of her mind these days, and now even more so. No matter where she is, there's got to be a way to get back home, and she's going to find it even if it takes days.

A few of the doors had opened as she approached them (fancy, she thinks, snidely) but when she comes up to one that didn't, she frowned. "Open up," she tells it. Nothing happens-- not an altogether unexpected outcome. Focusing as much as her overtaxed mind allows, she holds out her hand and says convincingly, "Alohomora!"

Again, nothing. Tonks kicks the door with her ugly grey trainer and snarls, "Piss off and let me in!" The door doesn't respond-- but the person who's just snuck up on her does, and she whirls to face the interrupter with a defiant expression.

[she's got chin-length brown hair and brown eyes to start. find her trying to get into the door of your choice!]

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"Easy, sweetheart," Pullo says, holding up his hands to show that he's not making any untowards moves on her. If there's one thing he's learned since he's been here it's to be very careful of the women and everything he said and did around them. "You need one of those communicator-thingies to get anywhere around here. Though even then you can't get most places. Place is shut up tighter than a virgin's thighs."

Tonks's eyebrows rose and her chin went up a little-- both to put on a brave face, and because the bloke was two meters tall if he was an inch.

"Alright, sweetheart," she said, heavy with irony. "Where do I get one of those 'communicator-thingies', then?"

"Back in the hub," Pullo replied with a jerk of his chin. "You're new here, aren't you?" The fact that people seemed to arrive with no warning had been a bit odd at first, but then, the gods had their whims. Frankly he just hoped they'd send a few more loose women sooner rather than later.

"You need me to show you?"

"Brand spanking new," she agrees. She sizes him up again-- he doesn't act like a jailer, but she can't trust that things will just start making sense now, after what feels like a twenty-four hour long nightmare.

"Yeah, why not. Lead the way." She lets him go first. There's no way she's turning her back on someone that size, even if she had her wand.

Edited 2013-03-20 16:19 (UTC)

Pullo shuffles down the corridor, fingers plucking somewhat distractedly at the trousers he was wearing. Mystique had gotten a great deal of pleasure finding 'proper' clothes big enough for him to fit into from the wardrobe and he was humouring her for the time being, but he was already looking forward to putting his usual outfit back on as soon as he could.

Eventually they reach the hub and Pullo finds the desk where the communicators are stored, indicating the drawer with one meaty finger. "They're in there. You have to do a bunch of fancy stuff to get 'em to work, but don't ask me what. Zoe or someone'll help you if you need it."

"Zoe," she repeats, grabbing one of the gadgets and peering at it, blinking and squawking in surprise as it starts flashing into her eye. "Welcome, Nymphadora Tonks," it says to her in a cool, even voice, and she bites off a little inhale. If she didn't know Muggle technology and magic didn't mix, she'd be tempted to say that's what this was. It's unsettling, either way, and she doesn't want to look at it until she gets someone else-- this Zoe person, maybe-- to show her what it's for.

She shoves the thing into the pocket of her tracksuit bottoms and turns back to her companion, basically ready to pretend that whole scene hadn't just happened. "I'm Tonks, by the way," she says brightly. "And since you're being so helpful giving me the tour, can our next stop be somewhere I can get some decent clothes?"

"Titus Pullo," he replies, without his usual bombastic flair. "And sure, though it depends on what you mean by 'decent'." Leaving it at that, he turns and heads off towards the wardrobe room, deciding that he'll return these trousers while he's there.

With nothing to do but follow, she jogs after him, resisting the urge to make herself taller to compensate. She's not sure she wants to give herself away yet, especially if she's alone among Muggles.

"So where'd you come from, Titus Pullo?" she asks as she catches up. "Before here, I mean. Not England, I'm assuming."

"The Aventine," he tells her, and when is was met with the usual confused look he sighs and adds "In Rome." He could believe a handful of people not knowing about the Aventine, but every single person he tells is sadly clueless. If this is what passes for culture in the other part of the world, count him out.