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milliways_bar2012-03-02 10:31 pm
scots_wolf) wrote in milliways_bar2012-03-02 10:31 pm
Entry tags:
**splat** -- again
[[Before Milliways: Death In Cologne, 1260]]
Urquhart is falling, and then, he's no longer falling because he has hit the dirty ground in Dranckgasse, and then Urquhart exists there no longer. Eventually, his body is taken away.
Instead, Urquhart lands in the soft grass of somewhere completely different, a black blemish in the spring greenery. For a moment, he lies dead and broken, singed and bloody.
Then, he lifts his head.
It is early spring now, not September, and he is in an achingly familiar landscape, unlike and in continental Europe. He picks up his crossbow and gets to his feet.
His bones are whole, and his face no longer raw from the fire. His hair is there again, and the soot and dried blood starts crumbling and flaking. Everything hurts, but Urquhart has learned to ignore that.
In the early evening light, he can see buildings that look welcoming, perhaps an inn? He walks towards it, opens the door and slips inside. It is an inn, and Urquhart does have money -- all the money from his last contract that went so horribly wrong.
There is a roaring fire, and many patrons, and a bar, and food and drink. But at first, Urquhart stays by the back door and observes, to find out where he has ended up, and perhaps why, and then act accordingly.
He realizes he must look awful.-
[[OOC: No, I'm not rebooting Urquhart --he'll remember everything from his first death to sitting in Teja's forge shortly before the allpocalypse (but not being killed) as soon as somebody or something sets off an episode of his PTSD -- so never worry and/or use the chance of an oblivious Urq to do something outrageous... That happened in the Guppy thread - which is therefore millitimed AFTER all the other threads, in which he still is oblivious.]]
Urquhart is falling, and then, he's no longer falling because he has hit the dirty ground in Dranckgasse, and then Urquhart exists there no longer. Eventually, his body is taken away.
Instead, Urquhart lands in the soft grass of somewhere completely different, a black blemish in the spring greenery. For a moment, he lies dead and broken, singed and bloody.
Then, he lifts his head.
It is early spring now, not September, and he is in an achingly familiar landscape, unlike and in continental Europe. He picks up his crossbow and gets to his feet.
His bones are whole, and his face no longer raw from the fire. His hair is there again, and the soot and dried blood starts crumbling and flaking. Everything hurts, but Urquhart has learned to ignore that.
In the early evening light, he can see buildings that look welcoming, perhaps an inn? He walks towards it, opens the door and slips inside. It is an inn, and Urquhart does have money -- all the money from his last contract that went so horribly wrong.
There is a roaring fire, and many patrons, and a bar, and food and drink. But at first, Urquhart stays by the back door and observes, to find out where he has ended up, and perhaps why, and then act accordingly.
He realizes he must look awful.-
[[OOC: No, I'm not rebooting Urquhart --