001.

[ukan]

[The first thing Lark does is follow his nose. He gets himself some food, enough to clear his mind, and then finds a quiet corner up on the deck where he can watch the universe drift by. He watches the network first, making cursory judgments of the people there. And then he turns the camera on himself.

He's not sure any of this is real, but it's always safest to pretend it is. If it's real to these people, it needs to be real to him.]

Monarchism depth doubtfully entrancing.

[He closes his eyes, no. Not right. Slow breath in: who am I?]

Sorry. My name is Lark. I've already introduced myself to the cafeteria, [he holds up his clean spoon] You eat pretty well here. Better than I've had in other cages. I can tell what most of the things on my plate were originally. In a place like this, in times like these, that's a blessing.

[Now the question. Time to find out the important things. He should have waited, but he doesn't have time to spare.

Who am I? Lark. Where am I? That, as Shakespeare said, is the question.]

I'm still monkey lid drudging cloud?

Comments

[imfollowinghim]

Monkey what?

[ukan]

Sorry, that's-

drugs. I was drugged.

[imfollowinghim]

Well, you're not drugged now. [Probably, anyway.] Anyone give you the welcome aboard speech yet?

[ukan]

Parts of it, I think. [He recites what he knows: that it's a prison, that he'll be paired with a warden. That everyone here is from a different world, or time, and they have different abilities. Or none.

That there are communal showers.]

Are we allowed to eat what we like, or is it rationed?

text;

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

A man makes no sense.

text;

[ukan]

A man rarely does.

text;

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

What does he mean?

text;

[ukan]

I'm lost. Ran too far from home, it seems.

[je_suis_avec_toi]

Could you try that again?

[ukan]

[Small laugh]

Yes.

My name is Lark.

[je_suis_avec_toi]

That's better. I'm Lia.

Is English not your first language?

[ukan]

It is. I've just had a long [cloud seeking flowers]

...I need fresh air.

[Private]

[scentbombed]

[Ah. So that's who she's smelling. She switches immediately to private, because some things are for canine ears only. The babble doesn't seem to bother her -- she cuts right through it.]

Good day, Mr. Lark. My name is Captain von Uberwald. I expect you and I have something in common. [And she pauses significantly here, waiting to hear if he's noticed the same thing she has.]

[Private]

[ukan]

[He has been around the ship enough to catch the scent of another dog. Since he's currently a fugitive from his own pack and trying to avoid causing a fight with anyone else, he'd turned and gone the other way, but...]

It's good to know I'm not alone. Is the ship yours? [If it is her territory, there's not much he can do about leaving. He'll figure it out.]

[Private]

[scentbombed]

Not exactly. I'm a warden here. [Not that she doesn't know what he's asking, and the von Uberwald temptation to say yes is there in the back of her mind, but she shoves it away.]

I tend to handle the... well, us bits. There's one other werewolf on board and two shapeshifters, plus some vampires, so don't get too alarmed by all the changing.

[Private]

[ukan]

Makes me feel at home. [There's no sarcasm in his tone, but there is a teasing smile, there and gone.] Are they mostly lone dogs, or do they come together under you?

[timesbureaucrat]

I beg your pardon?

[It sounds like nonsense to him, but English isn't Narvin's first language, and idioms sometimes go over his head.]

[ukan]

Sorry. All I meant to say was, I'm Lark. And your name, sir?

[timesbureaucrat]

Narvin. Chief Coordinator Narvin.

[video]

[twooutoften]

[...cages. Well that hits entirely too close to home. Tommy frowns, shifts uncomfortably in his seat -- the latest port did what it could to make that whole situation worse, he's still getting over expecting to be locked in a cage himself with a collar around his neck -- and watches the new guy. He's familiar, in a way that's just another thing to make him uneasy, and coupled with the new people and smells, he can pretty much pinpoint why. Which, in Tommy's world, only makes him more alert. More likely to bite.]

You been to prison before?

[He's betting on the answer being no, but you can't just outright ask if somebody was dumb enough to try to throw a were in the ring.]

[video]

[ukan]

[Lark studies him for a long moment, seeing the same familiar signs that Tommy has noticed in him. He smiles though, wry and a little self-deprecating.]

In a manner of speaking. Is that really what this is? A prison? I was making a bad joke...

[video]

[twooutoften]

What're you lookin' at?

[It's a small show of teeth, feeling him out, but he's beta enough. He won't get too aggressive, not yet anyway.]

Yeah, it's...kinda bullshit, if you ask me? But that's what they say. Some people die an' end up here that way, other people get some kinda deal if they help out the dead guys. Like I said. Bullshit.

[...granted, he ended up with a not too terrible situation, but that's not even the point.]

[routemistress]

Your translation matrix is stuck, lovey, try giving it a thump. What's times like these where you're from?

[ukan]

2007, if you're using the Gregorian calendar. Wartime, if that makes it any clearer.

[routemistress]

[There's a brief, unfocused moment while Iris tries to remember which wars correlate to which versions of Gregorian 2007.]

...Iraq, Canary Wharf or the Saxon timeline, is that? Oh, don't mind me, lovey, I'm just nosey sometimes. This is a lovely ship - I'm sure you'll do well 'ere, pet!