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 Tusen dråper regn, Tag: Allison
ANDROMEDA CALLIDUM
 Posted: Mar 6 2014, 01:54 PM
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Andy
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The Pacific was as chaotic as it ever was, and due to the lack of crew on board his ship, Andromeda found that he went right in the middle of what seemed to be a hurricane of sorts. Which was odd, as they were too close to the equator and off season for any of that sort to happen. The rain pelted down in buckets and buckets, rogue waves crashing over the smal war vessel as Andy's Australian crew struggled to maintain it.

"We need to find land, and fast!" One of the men spoke up, but another smacked him on the back of the head.

"Idiot! We don't want to crash onshore any of the rocky outcroppings!" The other yelled out loud. Sure enough they'd manage to make headway through the storm to land the Australian crew, however it was still bad outside.

There wouldn't be a ship disaster without a bunch of ships crashing into one another in the middle of a not-hurricane. At approximately 0900 hours, Andromeda's ship managed to slip off it's tether as he managed to get the crew out, and smash headfirst into a cargo vessel, tearing a hole through the hull of both ships and causing massive damage.

And then there was the other problem that Andy knew was the most ironic of them all. He just couldn't swim.

Stumbling around one of the crew cabins, he sloshed through water, soaking wet and scratched up on his upper arms and waist, his green US apparel torn and soaked through, his black combat boots cold... he found his way over to the front end of the room...

Only for a wardrobe to open up right over him and collapsed on him. Andy panicked, knowing if he was stuck in here as the water rises, he would surely drown.

Way to state the obvious, self He grumbled. Struggling against the wardrobe, he could see the water rising beneath the open crack where he could see daylight, and he wriggled his leg free of the armoir before he found himself inside it.

"Who the $#&% decided to bring a god-^&%$ing ARMOIR on his damn ship?!" Andy hissed out loud.

Then he realized everything stopped moving, and there was no sloshing and no sound of the ocean or the torrents that raged outside. Nothing was wet-except him- and he idly wondered what the heck just happened.

"No way in hell this is a magic wardrobe. I simply cannot be in Narnia" He grumbled as he pushed a boot out of his face and shuffled until he was rightside up, wincing from the pain in his leg and standing amongst what appeared to be lady's clothing.

"... I'm going to have a word with the crew about crossdressing... and not allowing me to partake in it. Just cause I'm American..." He pushed the wardrobe open, and stumbled out...

Into a brightly lit, dry doom.

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Andy: Permastubble is for the kids who don't want to grow out a full beard, but want to look like a man, and fail miserably at it.
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ALLISON CASTIEL
 Posted: Mar 6 2014, 05:52 PM
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It had been a long, hot, drowsy summer's day. The kind that seemed to drag on forever and ever. The kind, Allie thought wistfully, that should be spent lying on a riverbank under the pleasant shade of a spreading willow tree, with a book in one's lap and an icy-cold drink to hand. Instead, she was stuck sitting behind the counter in her antique shop, her head propped up on one hand, trying desperately not to nod off to sleep in the humid air as the sun crawled across the floor, and the afternoon inched towards evening.

She had started off the day looking crisp and fresh, in her fitted white cotton shirt, and her short, pleated navy-blue skirt. Now she felt as hot and limp as an over-cooked noodle. The small air-conditioner had struggled on gamely throughout the day, doing its best to introduce at least a thread of cool air into the stifling atmosphere. But, in the end, it had made a strange gurgling sound and had given up the ghost. Allie felt a bit guilty about that, as if she had killed it with overwork. Now it had joined the ever-growing list of the things in the shop she needed to get fixed, but couldn't afford to.

Only three customers had come into the shop the entire day, and none of them had bought anything. It wasn't exactly a good day for buying antiques, she supposed. Not when the footpath outside was hot enough to fry an egg on. The main problem, though, was that it seemed lately no day was a good day for buying antiques, and her finances were beginning to dip alarmingly. She couldn't bear to think that she might lose the shop and the business her aunt had worked so hard to build up.

With a dispirited sigh, she got to her feet and walked around the counter, intending to head towards the door and to turn the sign from “Open” to “Closed”. Nothing was happening. Her trade was as dead as the air-conditioner, at least for today, so she may as well shut up early.

All at once, there was a strange rattling and banging sound inside the huge wooden armoire which stood against the far wall. It was a monstrous old thing, quite ugly, its carved wooden sides blackened with age, the inside smelling of lavender and mothballs. It had been in the shop for as long as Allie could remember, ever since she was tiny. Aunt Vanessa had used it to store the collection of vintage clothing she had for sale. Allie had spent hours dressing up in those clothes as a child. Faded, trailing crinoline gowns, flounced and elegant; short, sassy 1920s flapper dresses, bright and strung with beads; pink satin poodle-skirts from the 1950s, accompanied by what seemed like a thousand petticoats. Back then, her aunt's shop had seemed like a never-ending wonderland of treasure and mystery.

But she could not recall the armoire ever making this kind of noise before. To her intense alarm, she realised that it sounded like there was something alive inside it, trying to get out. Then – as impossible as it may seem - she heard a male voice, swearing irritably and muttering something about cross-dressing. Her eyes widened and her hand shot out, grabbing the first thing that she touched, which just happened to be an antique cast-iron skillet, to use as an improvised weapon.

At that moment, the door of the wardrobe creaked and sprang open. A man dressed in green military fatigues stumbled out into the middle of the room. He was a terrifying sight, his clothes soaking wet and torn, his dark hair wild and unkempt, and a grim expression on his face.

There was no time to be afraid. Instead, Allie's sense of self-preservation kicked in and adrenaline surged through her veins. Without hesitation, she hefted the iron pan and swung it, aiming directly for the intruder's head.

This post has been edited by ALLISON CASTIEL: Mar 7 2014, 04:49 AM

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ANDROMEDA CALLIDUM
 Posted: Mar 6 2014, 08:15 PM
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At first, Andy could smell the hot air, outside, but it was a dry air, the kind that he was very unused to. He was obviously far inland, and perhaps farther north (or South depending in the hemisphere) and higher up in elevation, but the heat of the day told him that if he was north, it was in the summer, or in the winter in the south. Taking a deep breath he could tell he wasn't too far from sea level.

There was also a very dank smell in the air, like a bunch of old things and on the floor of the brightly colored room there were dusty items up for sale, almost like antiques. Funny thing was he couldn't consider some of those things he spotted antiques other than the clothes in the wardrobe that were from the 1920's. Other than that, there wasn't much else than the fact that the old armoire he escaped in would fit quite nicely amongst the items up for sale.

That is until he got up to a standing position and found a black blur rushing towards him and a flash of blue and white. Without even thinking, Andy leaned back, trying to escape the wrath of a frying pan possibly cracking his skull open, but his nose sadly found the wrath of the pain.

"AUGH!" Andy couldn't help but yell out in pain. He WAS used to pain, but no man, like their nether region, couldn't not react to their nose possibly being broken. Holding his nose with one of his hands, he reached out to grab the wrist that he saw and twisted it, wrenching the pan out of the person's grasp.

That is until he spotted exactly WHO hit him with a frying pan.

It was a young lady. Maybe a little younger than he was. Andy was within an inch from naturally breaking the woman's hand before he stopped instantly and relaxed his grip on her, taking a better look at her assets... er, who she was.

She was blonde, pretty, had a very slight twinkle of rosacea known to people who lived further up north, a slender neck, full breasts and hips, at least from his observation, and a pair of pretty brown eyes. She was a stunning figure, and Andy half wondered if he was dead and just went to Sailor Heaven.

"... Hello." Sadly that was the only thing he could really utter out loud at the moment, even if she was distracting him from the pain of his bleeding nose

This post has been edited by ANDROMEDA CALLIDUM: Mar 6 2014, 08:15 PM

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Andy: You can't rock facial hair like I do.
Fitz: I can too! I rock permastubble.
Andy: Permastubble is for the kids who don't want to grow out a full beard, but want to look like a man, and fail miserably at it.
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ALLISON CASTIEL
 Posted: Mar 6 2014, 09:15 PM
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The intruder's reaction time was blindingly fast. Despite the fact that Allie had the element of surprise on her side, he still managed to step backwards quickly enough to avoid the skillet crashing down on his head. Instead, the edge of the pan caught his nose a glancing blow, hard enough to draw blood, but not enough to incapacitate him.

He gave an agonised shout, staggering slightly, but not falling. Allie nearly overbalanced from the force of her swing, but valiantly attempted to right herself and lash out at him again. However, she was too slow. His hand shot out and grabbed her arm with the speed of a striking snake, his fingers closing like a vice on the small, delicate bones of her wrist.

With a shriek of pain, she dropped the skillet, which landed with a clang on the wooden floor, only narrowly missing one of his booted feet. For a terrified moment, she thought he was going to snap her wrist like a twig, and she had a chilling vision of her life ending right here in her own shop, murdered by this impossible stranger.

But then, he seemed to pause and get a good look at her, and the killing rage drained from his face. To her amazement, his grip loosened on her arm, and he gave her what would have been a charming grin, if his nose hadn't been bleeding so profusely. “...Hello.”

“Who...who are you?” she gasped. "Please don't kill me!"

This post has been edited by ALLISON CASTIEL: Mar 6 2014, 09:16 PM

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ANDROMEDA CALLIDUM
 Posted: Mar 6 2014, 09:42 PM
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The woman was pretty easy to incapacitate, the skillet now officially out of her hands and he still had a good grip on her wrist, though this time he gave her a bit more wriggle room. After all, he didn't want to hurt a pretty lady like this despite the fact that he had no idea who she was.

At least she knew that he was at least giving her a greeting, and she had no intention of harming him even if out of self defense. He pulled himself back, now at an arm's length from her but still holding on to her, just in case.

“Who...who are you?” She spoke up. "Please don't kill me!"

Well that gave him two hints. First of all she spoke English, which was especially helpful, and second of all she had a light British accent in her voice. He couldn't exactly pinpoint where, but it wasn't the Received Pronunciation that most of the Gurkhas had (the younger ones at least who learned English in school).

"Me?" He spoke up, trying to remain as calm and cool as possible, pulling one of his hands away to rub the blood off of his upper lip. "Captain Andromeda Callidum, and who are you?"

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Andy: You can't rock facial hair like I do.
Fitz: I can too! I rock permastubble.
Andy: Permastubble is for the kids who don't want to grow out a full beard, but want to look like a man, and fail miserably at it.
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ALLISON CASTIEL
 Posted: Mar 6 2014, 10:04 PM
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Brownbug
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Captain Andromeda Callidum? The name was unusual, but not one that was familiar to her. She was certain she had never heard it before. A military man, then, as confirmed by his uniform. And one that had recently seen some sort of action, by the look of him. But what on Earth was he doing in her shop? And how had he got inside the armoire?

Allison drew a deep breath, trying to steady herself. His hand was still wrapped around her wrist, but in a wary rather than a threatening manner, as though he was worried she might try to hit him again. She could feel the warmth and strength of his fingers. He was not a ghost or any kind of strange hallucination. He was real and he was standing right here.

“My...my name is Allison Castiel. This is my shop,” she quavered. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

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ANDROMEDA CALLIDUM
 Posted: Mar 6 2014, 10:32 PM
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Even Andy wasn't really sure what he was going to do or what was going to happen. After all, he appeared out of a wardrobe from his old ship that was probably at the bottom of the ocean, and now he was in an antique shop. He still needed to ask her if she was single... no, where he was.

“My...my name is Allison Castiel. This is my shop,” Andy had to admire her inherent shyness, and he certainly had to admit she was pretty cute for a British girl. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

"Well it is a, er... nice shop. It's a shop?" He looked baffled at this comment. He blinked at her, finally letting go and crossing his arms. "I have no idea why I'm here I was on my warship north of Australia in the middle of a storm, I had an armoire fall on me and I wound up here... This isn't Narnia is it? Seems too warm."

He then scratched his head, "And what I'd like is a handkerchief or gauze. Or a tampon. Either helps with a bloody nose."

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Andy: You can't rock facial hair like I do.
Fitz: I can too! I rock permastubble.
Andy: Permastubble is for the kids who don't want to grow out a full beard, but want to look like a man, and fail miserably at it.
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ALLISON CASTIEL
 Posted: Mar 7 2014, 02:00 AM
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"Well it is a, er... nice shop. It's a shop?" He looked baffled at this comment. He blinked at her, finally letting go and crossing his arms.

Allie stared at him, confused by his apparent disorientation. He didn't seem to know where he was, any more than she knew where he had come from. His accent, however, was distinctly American, a slow, honey-thick drawl. She often had American tourists wandering into her shop, especially in the summer. Usually, she welcomed them with open arms, because they tended to have a lot of money and were eager to buy things. But she had never met one quite like this.

“Of course it's a shop,” she said firmly, her voice gaining in confidence as she saw that he had no immediate intention of harming her. “I sell antiques. It's called 'Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe'.” She wasn't quite sure why she had told him that particular irrelevant piece of information. Except that she was terribly nervous and was blurting out anything that came into her head. “You...you just...walked out of my wardrobe.”

"I have no idea why I'm here. I was on my warship north of Australia in the middle of a storm, I had an armoire fall on me and I wound up here... This isn't Narnia is it? Seems too warm."

Allie blinked at the unlikely tale, wondering for a moment if he was winding her up. However, despite his half-joking reference to Narnia, the expression on his face was perfectly serious, as if he meant every word he was saying. Of course, she reasoned, he could simply be delusional, a headcase escaped from a nearby asylum or something like that. But somehow, he didn't strike her as insane. And she had seen him emerge from the wardrobe, when she knew perfectly well he couldn't have been in there just an hour earlier, since one of her customers had browsed right through the collection of vintage clothing without any alarm being raised. Allie hadn't left the room since then. There was no logical way he could have entered the shop and hidden inside the big cupboard without her seeing him. And what was it Sherlock Holmes had always said? If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth...

“You're not in Narnia,” she replied quietly, deciding to take his explanation at face value, no matter how crazy it seemed, at least for now. “You're in London. Dolman Road, Chiswick, to be exact, just down from the High Street.”

The Captain scratched his head a bit blankly, as if the address meant nothing to him whatsoever. Apart from the blood oozing from his nose, he was very good-looking, she couldn't help noticing. In a rakish, dangerous sort of way.

"And what I'd like,”
he continued, “Is a handkerchief or gauze. Or a tampon. Either helps with a bloody nose."

Allie coloured at the mention of a tampon. She had always had an unfortunate tendency to blush at the most inconvenient times and it seemed this occasion wasn't destined to be any different.

“I'm...I'm sorry I hit you,” she apologised contritely, feeling a stab of guilt now that her rush of adrenaline had subsided. “You sort of...took me by surprise...and I thought you were going to hurt me. There's a medical kit in the back room, if you'd like to come through.”

With that, she sidled past him, still keeping a cautious distance, and led the way to the door behind the counter, gesturing for him to follow her into the kitchenette at the back of the shop.

This post has been edited by ALLISON CASTIEL: Mar 7 2014, 04:51 AM

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ANDROMEDA CALLIDUM
 Posted: Mar 7 2014, 11:40 PM
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Andy was indeed a man of different tastes. He was old fashioned, hailing from a period where there were some of the most changes that ever happened in a century happened politically and socially, and he was also a military man. Even with his esteemed interest in the ladies (and Allie herself) he was sharp. He trained his eye on every detail of the place, noting different antiques from different time periods, but he still wasn't sure where he was.

“Of course it's a shop,” He had to chuckle at her firm and to the point response and the fact he had to ask twice if it was a shop,“I sell antiques. It's called 'Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe'.” Andy then picked up a little item he pinpointed from the 50's by label and design. Which he found odd. He was in the mindset he was in his own time, which meant in HIS perspective, something like this wouldn't be in the actual shop “You...you just...walked out of my wardrobe.”

"Yes, I suppose I did." He replied, putting back the item of interest and focusing back on her as she spoke up again.

“You're not in Narnia. You're in London. Dolman Road, Chiswick, to be exact, just down from the High Street."

"Well," He turned to her. "Our stories match, but our locations don't. I was in my sinking ship at a port in the Gulf of Carpentaria, which is absolutely insane by any normal standards with the war but I had to drop the boys off somehow," He needn't mention specific details, "And wound up in London... Oh &*^% my ship is probably still sinking..."

He bit his lip, but remembered that everybody had been evacuated safely except for him, a brief moment of sadness hit him as he realized he might never see his Australia. A slow glance rolled over to Allie.

"And wound up in the closest place to heaven there is?" He winked at her playfully, and his grin got wider as he noticed a visible blush on her pale cheeks. Obviously he flustered her and found some enjoyment in teasing her like that. She was rather cute with reddish cheeks, he had to admit.

“I'm...I'm sorry I hit you,” He glanced down at her, amused, “You sort of...took me by surprise...and I thought you were going to hurt me. There's a medical kit in the back room, if you'd like to come through.”

"Don't sweat it, sweetheart. I've gone through much worse." He reached up to brush the scar down his right side of his face, touching gently over his eye. He tried to not think about it, but he found his tough demeanor fading a bit, the trauma kicking in as he struggled with his life as his Gurkha men fought through the camp to save him and his crewmates...

He snapped back to reality and followed her as she went into the kitchionette, but then things just got weird. First of all, Andy found himself in a place with... quite a few more... shiny futuristic appliances than he expected. Normally in his household there would have been a big detatched stove and a fridge with a small freezer and maybe a toaster oven. This... it was SHINY.

"... What." He stared at the fridge almost as if it were an animal about to eat him. However the one thing that piqued his interest the most was the microwave. In his time, they weren't even created yet, and he found himself taking a nervous finger forward to the little flat things he saw as numbers and poked them.

It beeped.

He jumped back.

"Er... what is this?"

This post has been edited by ANDROMEDA CALLIDUM: Mar 15 2014, 05:51 PM

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Andy: You can't rock facial hair like I do.
Fitz: I can too! I rock permastubble.
Andy: Permastubble is for the kids who don't want to grow out a full beard, but want to look like a man, and fail miserably at it.
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ALLISON CASTIEL
 Posted: Mar 8 2014, 01:24 AM
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“Well," He turned to her. "Our stories match, but our locations don't. I was in my sinking ship at a port in the Gulf of Carpentaria, which is absolutely insane by any normal standards with the war but I had to drop the boys off somehow. And wound up in London... On &*^% my ship is probably still sinking..."

For a brief few seconds, there was a lost, distant look in his eyes that made Allie's heart clench in unexpected sympathy for him.

“I'm sorry,” she said softly. “That sounds awful for you.”

His attention returned to her, the fleeting vulnerability quickly hidden behind a slow, admiring grin.

“And wound up in the closest place to heaven there is?" He winked at her playfully.


Allie's cheeks grew hotter than ever, and she wasn't quite sure where to look as she edged past him towards the kitchenette. He couldn't possibly be flirting with her, could he? Not after she'd so nearly taken his head off with a frying pan? She would've expected him to be angry with her, not to look at her with that laughing twinkle in his eyes - but it seemed as if Captain Andromeda Callidum was impossible in more senses than one.

“I'm...I'm sorry I hit you,” He glanced down at her, amused, “You sort of...took me by surprise...and I thought you were going to hurt me. There's a medical kit in the back room, if you'd like to come through.”

"Don't sweat it, sweetheart. I've gone through much worse." He reached up to brush the scar down his right side of his face, touching gently over his eye.


Fascinated, Allie watched his fingers trace over the deep scar. She couldn't help wondering where he had come by such a grievous wound. He had been lucky. Much deeper, and she suspected he would have lost an eye. Oddly, the scar didn't detract from his appearance, at least in her opinion. In some ways, it actually accentuated his attractiveness, giving him a raffish, bad-boy look that matched his laid-back attitude.

Snatching her mind away from the disturbing thought, she pushed the swinging door open, hearing him follow along behind her. The back room was quite large, containing a small bathroom, a storeroom and the kitchenette, complete with a large wooden table she used to unpack and sort the stock shipments as they came in. The kitchenette itself was only small, but it was almost brand new. Aunt Vanessa, who had been quite frivolous at times, had replaced the previous one just before she died. Allie had to admit, she loved the shiny cream-coloured benches and the gleaming appliances. But every time she looked at them, her stomach tended to sink, as she was reminded that she was still paying them off.

She skirted the table and went up on tiptoe to rummage in one of the high cupboards, looking for the first aid kit she knew was there somewhere. Behind her, she heard Captain Callidum exclaim in surprise, “...What.”

Looking over her shoulder, she saw he was staring at the small, stainless steel fridge as if he'd never seen one before. Then he moved across to the microwave sitting on the bench, eyeing it curiously, a frown creasing his brow. Stretching out a cautious finger, he stabbed at the number panel, before comically jumping backwards in a startled fashion when a loud electronic beep emitted from the machine.

"Er... what is this?"
he asked blankly.

At first, Allie wasn't quite sure what to say. Was he teasing her again? Surely, he couldn't be serious. After all, a child of five would know the answer to that question. Even a soldier who spent the majority of his life on a battleship would have to have used a microwave at some point...wouldn't he?

“It's...a microwave oven,” she replied, after some hesitation. “Haven't you ever seen one before?”

This post has been edited by ALLISON CASTIEL: Mar 8 2014, 01:26 AM

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ANDROMEDA CALLIDUM
 Posted: Mar 8 2014, 10:13 AM
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“It's...a microwave oven,” she replied, after some hesitation. “Haven't you ever seen one before?”

"... No?" Andy had no idea what she was talking about, but apparently that was a 'microwave.' He poked a few more buttons, looking at what seemed to be an LCD display. There was a start button, so as soon as he poked the words '1567" on and then hit the START button, the microwave lit up and started making a humming sound. He then leaned back, staring at it for a moment, before he realized that he could also stop it and poked it to shut it off.

"What does it do?" Andy asked, not realizing that his questions were all getting pretty odd for the young lady. It wasn't until he glanced over and she was looking at him funny, almost as if it was completely NORMAL to have this item in the kitchen.

He glanced over at the fridge, and a dawning sense of realization that perhaps the vision of the future in his own 1960's mind with the sparkling catsuits and the metal tin hats were perhaps coming true after all. He sidled over to the fridge and opened it up and then he realized something.

"Wait, this thing makes ICE?" He then grabbed a handful of the ice from the freezer and glanced around, trying to find something to put it in. "This is... almost like the future..." He then paused for a moment, and then swallowed, carefully marking his words, "... What year is this?"

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Andy: You can't rock facial hair like I do.
Fitz: I can too! I rock permastubble.
Andy: Permastubble is for the kids who don't want to grow out a full beard, but want to look like a man, and fail miserably at it.
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ALLISON CASTIEL
 Posted: Mar 10 2014, 05:54 PM
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“No.” Her visitor's reply was slightly distracted, as he continued to play around with the microwave controls with all the enthusiasm of a small boy with a new toy. He started it and then stopped it again in quick succession, looking intrigued as the lights went on and off, and the turntable started to spin. “What does it do?”

Allie glanced down at the medical kit in her hands, feeling a burst of sudden anxiety. Had she hit him harder than she thought? Was he suffering from some kind of strange amnesia? Maybe she should have called an ambulance for him. But he seemed to remember his own name without any difficulty, as well as where he had come from. Besides, how could she possibly explain to the paramedics how he had come to be in her shop, when she had no idea herself?

“It's...usually for cooking things...or defrosting them,” she spoke up cautiously. “Although, here in the shop, I mostly use it for re-heating my lunch.”

But Captain Callidum had already moved over to the fridge and had pressed the button to activate the ice dispenser, a cascade of frozen chips suddenly tumbling out into his hands.

“Wait, this thing makes ICE?”

“Yes,” Allie answered, hurrying over to him and handing him a bowl in which to deposit the unwanted ice. “For drinks...and things.”

He stared down at the frozen slush, slowly melting into a puddle in the bottom of the bowl.

“This is...almost like the future...” he murmured, his face turning pale. “What year is this?”

Allie's brow creased into a small frown, her concern over his possible memory loss intensifying by the second. “2010, of course.”

But the look in his eyes as she said the words instantly brought her up short. It wasn't disorientation or confusion. It was jaw-dropping shock, pure and simple. All at once, the incredible situation became blindingly clear to her and her legs felt weak at the knees.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “You're not just from a different place, are you? You're from a different time altogether.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- Far away in Time and Space -

Shadows cannot survive in pure darkness, any more than they can thrive in the light. It was for this reason that the long chamber was dim, but not completely dark. The silence was almost palpable, a quiet so deep that the approaching subaltern could hear each and every one of his hesitant footsteps, ringing out on the marble floor, no matter how quietly he tried to creep along. His eyes were fixed nervously on the imposing figure, dressed in rich, red robes, who reposed motionless in a high command seat at the end of the room. Everything about this chamber was designed to intimidate, but nothing more so than this towering chair, silhouetted against the star-sprinkled panorama of space, opulently visible through the immense observatory windows behind it. A chill of desperate fear ran down the subaltern's spine as he approached, before throwing himself prostrate to the ground beneath his employer's cold, eyeless glare.

“Report.” The curt, icy command was flung like a stone from the heights of the chair. The subaltern kept his gaze lowered, piercingly aware that the news he brought would not be well received.

“Speak, worm. Has the Lady Odyne's commission been successfully completed?”

“Not...not quite yet, my Lord,” the pathetic creature stammered out. “It...proved somewhat more difficult than we originally thought. The dimension scoop temporarily malfunctioned and the...the target was transported to the incorrect destination coordinates.”

There was a long, terrible pause - the kind that stretches on and on, as if an axe hovered overhead, waiting for the right moment to fall. Then the dark voice continued, harder and more inflexible than granite. “Do you mean to tell me, you lost him?”

“No...no...of course not, my liege,” the subaltern gabbled, almost hysterical now in his attempts to placate his employer. “It's a glitch, nothing more. We know precisely where he is. He will be reacquired very shortly.”

“Very shortly? How long, exactly, will this...reacquiring...take?”

The subaltern writhed in distress at the subtle menace in the shadowy voice. “The technicians have advised us that the dimension scoop will require a minimum of twenty-four earth hours before it is fully recharged, my liege. Anything less, and the target's body may be torn apart as he is pulled through the boundaries of the space-time continuum.”

“And after that? You can guarantee that he will be delivered as requested, intact and ready to compete?”

“Yes, my liege. The Lady will have her chosen champion. Nothing will go wrong this time, on my honour!”

“For your sake, I hope that you are right!” the voice sneered. “Lady Odyne has quite set her heart on this particular toy. She would not appreciate being denied her pleasure. And I can assure you...she is not known as the Lady of Pain for nothing. It will not go well for you, should you fail me again.”

“There will be no failure, my liege!” the subaltern grovelled, backing with maximum haste towards the door on his hands and knees, his forehead submissively pressed against the ground. “I will oversee the matter myself. I swear to you, within a matter of hours, Captain Andromeda Callidum will be providing the Lady of Pain with all the entertainment she could possibly desire!”

This post has been edited by ALLISON CASTIEL: Apr 1 2014, 04:22 AM

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ANDROMEDA CALLIDUM
 Posted: Mar 10 2014, 06:19 PM
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Andy
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“It's...usually for cooking things...or defrosting them,” Her voice was nervous, cautious and he wasn't even sure how she was to reply to hi. He hoped he didn't scare her off... “Although, here in the shop, I mostly use it for re-heating my lunch.”

Andy was more than happy to place the ice on his nose to help curb the throbbing, and didn't even bother with the now water and blood mixing in and dripping onto the floor.

“Yes,” Allie nswered his rather obvious question as she went over to grab a bowl for him. “For drinks...and things.”

"I COULD go for scotch on the rocks, actually..." He muttered to himself, putting the ice in the bowl and staring at the mess on the floor. He then glanced over to spot some paper towels and then grabbed some, wiping off his face and then the floor. Not that it helps much cause he was still bleeding. Once everything was taken care of, he turned to face Allie.

“2010, of course.”

Andy naturally stared at her in amazement. Back in his day he never even imagined the naught era, much less even being in it. His mouth opened in shock and awe, and he found that he completely lost his voice. He glanced around one more time at the relatively colorful kitchen, and then back to her. Even then, he found he was at an utter loss of words. It hit Allie immediately.

“Oh my god,” she whispered to him. “You're not just from a different place, are you? You're from a different time altogether.”

"... Ninteen sixty-six. Yeah..." His voice jumped an octave, and for a brief moment he was irritated at himself becayse that was something a teenaged boy would do. Either way, he swallowed, clearing his throat. "I think... I need to sit down for a moment..."

This post has been edited by ANDROMEDA CALLIDUM: Mar 10 2014, 06:20 PM

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Andy: You can't rock facial hair like I do.
Fitz: I can too! I rock permastubble.
Andy: Permastubble is for the kids who don't want to grow out a full beard, but want to look like a man, and fail miserably at it.
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ALLISON CASTIEL
 Posted: Mar 10 2014, 06:32 PM
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Brownbug
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"... Ninteen sixty-six. Yeah..." His voice jumped an octave, and for a brief moment he was irritated at himself becayse that was something a teenaged boy would do. Either way, he swallowed, clearing his throat. "I think... I need to sit down for a moment..."

He looked so woozy, Allie was afraid he was going to pass out, then and there. Putting the medical kit on the table, she dragged a chair out for him, catching him by the elbow and steering him down into it.

Nineteen sixty six, she thought numbly. She hadn't even been /born/ back then. The implications were so enormous, she couldn't even seem to wrap her brain around them. He appeared to be only slightly older than she was. For him to have been this age in the sixties...oh god, that should make him well into his eighties by now.

Opening up the medical kit, she handed him a wad of cotton wool to patch up his nose, her hands trembling.

“If it's any consolation,” she said, with a slightly hysterical smile. “You look really good for a guy in his eighties.”

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ANDROMEDA CALLIDUM
 Posted: Mar 10 2014, 07:18 PM
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Andy
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At the moment, he was in a bit of a mess. After all, the idea that he would live into the naughts was incomprehensible for his time, and all the new equipment and probably dialect and ways of thinking and these thoughts about what the US was like in this time period really made his head swim. He could almost feel the ground rushing up underneath him, but luckily the statement he made didn't go unnoticed.

He could feel Allison's gentle hand on his arm as he sunk right into the chair, leaning his head down (which is actually the correct way to deal with a nosebleed as it won't all drain into his stomach and make him ill). It didn't even hit him what his age would be today, that is until he heard Allie's voice and he looked up at her.

“If it's any consolation,” Allie spoke up, and he took the gauze from her hand to start patching himself up. “You look really good for a guy in his eighties.”

Andy busted out laughing at the thought, imagining himself as he would be in his old age, forgetful, reminiscing on the old days, and with grey hair and wrinkly skin. Or perhaps a silver fox? He had no idea.

"An astute observation! I still feel like I'm in my twenties, though." He winked back at her. "Wonder if I even am still alive in this time."

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Andy: You can't rock facial hair like I do.
Fitz: I can too! I rock permastubble.
Andy: Permastubble is for the kids who don't want to grow out a full beard, but want to look like a man, and fail miserably at it.
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