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?

text;

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

A man makes no sense.

[je_suis_avec_toi]

Could you try that again?

[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.]

[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.]

[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.]

[routemistress]

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