log > for lack of a better place to do so

[gearsof.livejournal.com]

He had to wonder how it was that, if no one save a very, very select few could leave Whitechapel, he kept ending up elsewhere. Indeed, this wasn't the steam-driven, smog-choked section of city he called home. This was somewhere else entirely - and startlingly modern in comparison to the Victorian England he was so used to.

It was unseemly of him, but he found himself staring - tall buildings all steel and glass towered over him, and over that lay the clearest sky he'd seen in his entire life. The sun was bright, brighter that it had ever been in Whitechapel, with its constant overhang of smoke. All the better, he supposed, that he was wearing his usual attire, complete with dark glasses.

Alabaster stood alone on the street, a tall figure in smoke black stark against the clean, polished world he now found himself in. There seemed to be no one around. This city, if it was indeed a city and not some ludicrous dream, appeared to be deserted.

He reached into the pocket of his coat, fishing out a pocket watch. In this alien place, was Grandfather Clock - his God, and God over Whitechapel - still watching him through the clockface? Or had the connection been severed with his sudden disappearance?

Such things would be answered in due time, he told himself. For now, there was only the question of getting back. It wouldn't do to have Grandfather Clock's elite agent up and vanish in the middle of a rebellion, now would it?

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[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

A map. This would have all been solved hours ago, if she had just remembered to grab a map from the apartment. She'd had the thought, of course, but had been in such a daze that morning, that she'd snatched up the nearest crinkly sheet of paper and prayed it was the right one. As luck would have it... it wasn't, and now she was staring down at an old essay she'd written way back in the fifth grade.

If that wasn't a sign to work on cleaning and organizing her place, she wasn't sure what was. But that could wait; for now, her first and utmost priority was to find the source of the disturbance that had jolted her from a nap twenty minutes ago, deal with it if necessary, and go back to her coffee.

Her senses hadn't been much help, either. "By the mall" only told her so much. Which mall? And where was it? For that matter, where was she? She had thought there was one close to where she lived, but maybe she'd taken one turn too many.

Saga unzipped her jacket, already starting to feel a little overheated despite the thin material. If she kept walking, she'd find it eventually...

... Or him, as the case seemed to be. The man was alone, which in itself was odd, but then again, this city wasn't quite as bustling as its neighboring ones.

Deciding there was no polite way to say, "Hello, are you a disturbance?", the young woman squared her shoulders and stepped closer.

"Hey. Can I help you with something?"

[gearsof.livejournal.com]

Alabaster angled his head slightly, fixing the girl with his gaze over the circular rims of his glasses. She was obviously a native of this place, if her odd clothing and accent were any indication - American, he noted. Interesting.

He must look a sight, having stepped right out of Victorian England to... well, to wherever he was. Black jacket, longer than the usual fare, buttoned all the way up to his throat; black bowler, slightly askew atop his dark waves; dark glasses perched on a soot-marked face that seemed to bear a permanent five o'clock shadow. All he needed now, he mused, was a cane or an umbrella to really look like a stereotypical Englishman - albeit a slightly dirty one.

Returning his watch to its proper place, he regarded her flatly. He wasn't easy to read on the best of days, and being somewhere strange, under equally strange circumstances, made him reluctant to show more than he had to.

"That depends," he remarked, tone as flat as his gaze. "I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere."

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

And now the disturbance was acting wary-- not that Saga could fault him, considering the situation. She would have behaved exactly the same-- perhaps with a bit more friendliness-- had she "taken a wrong turn".

Well, she amended, given her extraordinary ability to get lost in food aisles, maybe not. There was only so much sympathizing she could do when a wrong turn led to diapers instead of canned tomato soup, and not to a different street corner. Maybe it was just the city himself that had him confused; his accent led her to believe he wasn't even from this country..

His accent also led her to believe that the man was some distant relative of the chimney sweep from Mary Poppins. Tall, sooty-face, distinct features underneath the soot, dark hair, funny hat-- she honestly wouldn't have been surprised if he'd hopped onto a roof and started singing.

"You're right, that does depend." As if trying to prove that she wasn't a threat (unless she absolutely had to be), Saga held up her hands, palms-up, and shrugged. "Where are you trying to go?"

[gearsof.livejournal.com]

The answer to that question took no great thought. "Home," came the reply. Though, that in itself wasn't much of an answer, so he amended, "Back to Whitechapel. London." His gaze flicked to her upturned hands - clearly a gesture meant to show him she meant no harm, though ironic in that he usually did the same thing before gutting a person.

Sliding the glasses back up the bridge of his nose to their proper place, he angled his head again, this time looking past the girl and to the surrounding buildings. "If I may, where am I?" His eyes drifted to her again. "And who are you?" Usually in the presence of a lady, he would follow at least the most basic rules of courtesy - it was unbecoming of an English gentleman such as he to do otherwise. But, at least for the moment, he saw no reason to tip his hat to someone who very well could be his abductor.

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

That confirmed the British suspicion, along with her initial theory. Either this man was just as inept with directions as she was, or he'd arrived through methods other than the standard ones for travel. That meant that could have been due to his own abilities, or...

If there's another rune around here, I swear...

Realizing that she should probably stop staring at him as if he'd just teleported in from another country, the brunette sighed and mustered a weak, apologetic smile. "If you're from London, you took more than just one wrong turn. This is Massachusetts, and I'm Saga Laskaris." She crinkled her nose slightly, then added in a tone that indicated she'd done this more than once, "Yes, it's my real name, yes, I know it's weird, yes, it's nice to meet you, and no, I have no involvement with the circus."

Out and About

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

The sun was a little lower in the sky when Saga and Alabaster set forth from the apartment in pursuit of a worthy disguise for the latter-- and it had dipped even lower by the time the former had realized that the mall was the other way.

Somehow, they'd made it there without ending up in the wrong city entirely (which, thankfully, she'd only managed once), and had left the question of men's fashion to one of the clerks. She hadn't seen Alabaster since he'd been hauled off, and was starting to consider trying to relocate him, having entertained thoughts of him tangled up in dress shirts or inadvertently cutting up slacks or worse.

[gearsof.livejournal.com]

The clerk had been annoying, but informative nonetheless. More than once he'd insisted Alabaster remove his coat to try on something or other, and Alabaster had vehemently refused. The slight amiableness he'd adopted with Saga was nowhere to be found, and the stone-faced, no-nonsense agent was back in full-force. At long last, the clerk gave him a sizable pile of things to try on and gladly left him in a fitting room.

After a while he emerged, wearing a white collared shirt beneath a black suit jacket (as much as he hated leaving the thing unbuttoned, all of the posters and mannequins around the store begged to differ), and a pair of jeans. The shoes were his own, but he saw no reason to get new ones when the old ones seemed to complete the ensemble just as well. In one hand was his own soot-stained outfit, in the other a couple of changes of clothes in similar style and functionality as the one he now wore.

Now, where had Saga gone off to?

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

"Excuse me, sir." The delicate tap came from behind, where Saga now stood, head tilted and looking utterly solemn and inquisitive. "I seem to have lost my friend; have you seen him? He kind of looks like you, only with a longer coat and looking like he took a roll in a fireplace."

Stone-faced no-nonsense agent or not, it looked as though Hermes' granddaughter never changed.

[gearsof.livejournal.com]

Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure if she was joking or not. His eyebrows went up, his earlier hostility receding now that he was in familiar company. "I beg your pardon?"

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

The calm stare was instantly replaced with a grin that left no doubt as to who she was descended from. While part of her rejoiced that her poker face had only gotten better over the years, the other part was pleased that she'd been able to coax an expression out of him that wasn't stern, stoic, or any other similar looks.

"In other words, you're looking good. I almost didn't recognize you! Did you have any trouble?"

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

The morning dawned gray and drizzly, and the gloominess of the atmosphere outside almost convinced Saga to scoot back under the covers and stay huddled there for at least another hour. However, there was work to be done, and an inadvertent time traveler crashed on her couch, so there was no time to waste.

Hence why she had been standing in the kitchen since seven in the morning, eyes closed, one hand extended with the palm facing down, and... glowing blue. The sight might have been unusual to anyone who happened to chance upon her, but she was more concerned with searching for that one tiny nudge that she'd felt yesterday.

[[ figured I might as well start a new thread before we got too far without a clear jump point.]]

[gearsof.livejournal.com]

Alabaster, for his own part, had been conked out until about 7:30. He'd gotten more sleep than he had in a long time, but still managed to shuffle into the kitchen looking suitably groggy.

He paused, cocking his head a bit and watching Saga. He couldn't be sure of what she was doing exactly, but he did know he didn't want to interrupt her.

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

She remained in that position for an additional ten minutes, and then opened her eyes, looking more than a little frustrated.

"It's here... it definitely is... but then why can't I find it? I swear, it's doing this just to mess with me, that stupid little--"

About to launch into a tirade about the sadism of runes, she suddenly caught sight of Alabaster and stopped herself just in time. "... Morning."

[gearsof.livejournal.com]

"Hello," he said, running a hand through his hair. He had a fairly good idea of what she had been doing, thanks to her little rant, but decided questions could wait. In watching her, he'd gotten a little time to wake up a bit, only to come to the realization that he was quite hungry. "Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

"Breakfast?" Saga regarded him blankly, until the question actually sank in-- her stomach giving a weak gurgle helped things along. "Uh, no. Sorry, I went right into this... I didn't think you'd be waking up so soon."

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

She'd estimated two days, but it was during the middle of the third that Saga finally opened her eyes and groggily regarded the ceiling. It took a few minutes to remember what had happened, and even longer to realize that she wasn't still sprawled on the floor (as she'd expected) but, rather, placed in bed.

The girl stared dazedly at her fingers, noticing the bandages wrapped around them, and made the pleasant discovery of a heavy head and stiff limbs when she tried to sit up. Just how long had she been out?

[gearsof.livejournal.com]

Two days, two and a half days. It was close enough. Alabaster had busied himself around the apartment, his own laundry had been a bit of a challenge for the washing machine, but it'd come out all right, and he had a small mishap with a kitchen appliance or two, but nothing major. Mostly he read, having located a tome or two of Greek myths, and poked his head in to check on Saga every one and a while.

Right now, he was sprawled on the couch, fast asleep. One arm was tossed casually over his eyes, the other rested on the book that lay open across his chest. His wounds had long since healed, and while the cut on his forehead hadn't scarred, the damage the boar had done to his torso had - visible now because his shirt had ridden up when he snuggled down on the couch. One more scar to add to the many he already had.

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

When she stepped into the main area, Duff was the first to greet her with a happy meow, wrapping around her ankles and nearly spilling her onto her face. Saga miraculously managed to keep herself upright, approaching the couch with quiet footsteps and raising her eyebrows when she saw just what Alabaster had been reading before he'd dozed off.

So he got interested after a tussle with that boar, then... Her amusement faded to concern, and some guilt, when her gaze wandered to take in his newest scar. She'd yet to come across a rune that could heal, much to her chagrin, which meant there was nothing she could do for him. And he was the one who'd helped her out so much.

A blanket was snagged from the top of the couch, which she used to carefully settle over the slumbering man before she made her way into the kitchen and plunked down in a chair to think things through.

[gearsof.livejournal.com]

The sudden addition of the blanket was enough to rouse him a little, and he vaguely registered that someone was moving around. It took him a moment, but he eventually woke up and padded into the kitchen, glad to see it was Saga sitting there. He gave her a slight smile and a nod. "Welcome back."

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

"Thanks." The smile was returned with a brighter one of her own, even if she was still tired. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting this long. Was everything okay?"

[gearsof.livejournal.com]

This was a battle he was swiftly losing.

He'd counted on Bailey to put up a fight, certainly. The old man had a thick skull. What he hadn't counted on was that hulking beast of a man - Tom? He vaguely recalled Bailey shouting the name - coming to Bailey's aid. He was huge, and so taken by the clacks that his shoulders jutted out at odd, severe angles, and he had more steel on his body than Alabaster himself did. His weapons worked wonders on flesh, but when it came to steel-to-steel, he was sorely outmatched.

He was bleeding from at least a dozen places, and even for someone of his stamina, he could only take a beating from Tommy's metal fists so many times. They'd backed him into a corner.

This is it, he thought dimly. Outdone by a conspirator and his pet peasant- Tom's fist was coming for his head again with the force of a jackhammer, and he didn't know if he had it in him to duck.

And then he was gone.

It took him a moment to gain his bearings, mechanical arms splayed through his torn coat sleeves like some kind of crazed spider, but it occurred to him quickly that he knew this room. He'd only lived in it for a week, but he knew it all the same. It was Saga's livingroom.

Aware that the immediate threat was gone, his body gave out and he dropped to one knee, coughing, oil seeping from the corners of his mouth. His last thought before he blacked out was only that he was sorry for dripping oil all over Saga's floor.

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

Saga was normally on top of disturbances. She could feel one within a second's notice and, if its proximity was threateningly close, she could move. However, this particular disturbance didn't seem to be rune-related-- and did seem to be strikingly familiar, once she'd recovered from her initial shock.

It had been a little over a month since Alabaster had returned home, and that should have been the end of it. However, that didn't explain why he was currently gracing her carpet and-- dripping-- bleeding-- leaking oil all over it.

Such curiosities could be answered later, when he didn't look as though he was ready and willing to expire where he lay. Saga didn't waste any further time, managing to lift him up enough to wrap a hand around his waist and drag him (as gently as she could) into her room and onto her bed. She paid the oil stains no mind, instead focusing on cleaning and bandaging what she could with a grim expression. He didn't look good, and she was still weak on her feet from her latest escapade. She'd just have to take care of what she could and leave the rest to him.

A murmured request to her grandfather for assistance never hurt things, either. It was just a shame that cleaning the rest of the mess fell squarely on her shoulders, which she faced now (after she had spent the last hour or two tending to her patient).

"... Well." She shrugged, grabbing some clean rags. "it kind of gives the place character."

[gearsof.livejournal.com]

Alabaster woke up and found himself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. Panic seized him for a split second, and he tried to sit up, but his body had other things to say about that. He begrudgingly settled back onto the--- bed? That's right. For whatever reason, he'd appeared in Saga's livingroom. And now, for whatever reason, he was in her bed.

Well, that was only slightly awkward.

He quickly took stock of the damage. As far as he could tell, the bleeding had stopped, and most of his wounds were fine - he must have been out for days if that was the case - but oh was he sore.

Very, very slowly, he hauled himself out of bed, frowning slightly at the dark stains on Saga's bedding, and shuffled painfully into the main room in search of Saga.

[looneyrune.livejournal.com]

There was much to be said about oil and carpet, and yet the only words Saga could come up with were muttered under her breath and definitely not anything that should have been said in the presence of small children and the elderly.

It had taken more scrubbing and soaking than she would have liked to admit, but at least it looked much improved, and she could honestly say that people wouldn't walk in, stop, stare, and point at any dark blotches on the floor.

The sounds of shuffling alerted her to the newest addition to the household and, frowning, she pushed herself to her feet and gave him her best stern expression.

"Are you sure you're up to moving about yet? You don't look fully recovered."

[gearsof.livejournal.com]

He managed a weak smile. "If you're worried about my dripping on your carpet again, don't be."

Truth be told, going back to bed for another day or two sounded so, so appealing, but he doubted his mind would let him rest. No doubt he'd be dead if he hadn't been snatched away, and if that was the case, then he'd failed his God. Troubling prospects.