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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Regina purses her lips in consideration. "Well now, those are two separate questions," she says. "We can get you a comm easily enough, and that would let you into a room with pretty much anything you could want to wear, within reason." She narrows her eyes thoughtfully at Tonks, clearly sizing her up. "But I get the idea you might want to be feeling a little more like yourself sooner rather than later, so I can take you let you into the wardrobe room now if you want me to take you there first."

Edited (for clarification) 2013-03-21 23:06 (UTC)

The set of her shoulders relaxed, and Tonks smiled a bit. "Sooner rather than later, yeah. I've had about as much of this lot as I can take." She plucks at her hoodie ruefully.

"If it's no bother, I'd be much obliged," she says, just to be clear-- and then comes forward, offering her hand. "I'm Tonks."

Regina gives a slight start at the name, but quickly gathers herself and shakes the younger woman's hand. "Regina," she said, eyes narrowing as though she finds the other woman familiar and is trying to place her. "Just a few doors along, this way," she says, leading Tonks along the corridow a bit, unlocking the wardrobe room and gesturing inside. After a bit of a pause, she adds, casually, "Mostly Muggle-wear, I'm afraid."

Edited (because I can't type) 2013-03-22 12:08 (UTC)

At that, her head whips around and Tonks gives the woman another once-over, more closely assessing. "Are you-- how d'you know me?" She doesn't recognize her, but that doesn't mean anything. Her mind rifles fast through a list of all the ways someone could have found out about her, about the Order, and she steps back from the door with wary eyes, waiting for an explanation.

"That's... a long story," Regina said, pursing her lips and shaking her head. "One that I'll be happy to tell, but it's probably best done sitting down. With a drink. Rest assured that there's no Voldemort or Harry Potter here. Not yet, anyway."