(no subject)

[just_cant_lose]

 
As he suspected he would, Jim caught Sherlock's - heh, Rory's - stupid bloody cold. He went to bed angry, frustrated, and sick to the back teeth of this entire bloody bar.

He wakes up with a Welsh accent, a body that feels weirdly exhausted, and a whooooole lot of surprise at finding himself in a bedroom that is not wallpapered in Laura Ashley, cluttered with years' worth of books and theatre junk. Gethin has never set foot in a room so opulent, and so incomprehensible to him. He spends a good hour looking at the clothes, the books, the...frankly pornographic, yet extremely beautiful...photography on the wall of the library (the centrepiece of which involves his own face, and the blurred figure of a much taller man in the background. He doesn't look at it for long.) Everything is very, very weird.

In short, Gethin Roberts does not have a bloody clue what's going on. But at least there are clothes he recognises - comfortably 80s in style - and if the cold he's got means he can't go searching Jonathan out, at least there appears to be a...bar, downstairs?

What. The Actual. Hell. 


[OOC: getting in under the wire! Open until the end of March. :)]

Comments

[just_cant_lose]

Gethin stares at him for a minute, before averting his eyes.

'Most people are self-aware to some degree, and capable of independent thought once they're introduced to something new. No one's ever just backdrop.'

There's no such thing as 'wholly conventional', as far as he's concerned. Everyone's got something about them, even people he doesn't like, who don't like him.

[cook_the_rude]

"I am sure that quite a sizeable portion of the population," Dr. Lecter posits, "spend their lives without one single original thought passing through their brains. I don't get those often in my practice, admittedly -- they are fae more likely to be the problem than to have problems."

[just_cant_lose]

Still staring, with a hint of steel now.

'I don't agree with you.'

And how does someone with this level of hatred for people become a psychiatrist?

[cook_the_rude]

"That much," the misanthropic psychiatrist smiles, "is obvious."

[just_cant_lose]

'Yeah.'

He runs his hands down his thighs, and stands up.

'I'm not feeling great, so I'm gonna go lie down. Thanks for the drink, Doctor.'

[cook_the_rude]

"It was great to talk to you," the doctor says. "I hope you feel better soon."

[just_cant_lose]

'Yeah. Yeah, thanks.'

He manages a polite smile before walking away. Ugh.