Underlondoners (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
underlondon_npc) wrote2011-01-14 02:14 am
underlondon_npc) wrote2011-01-14 02:14 am
Entry tags:
- aeronwy whitefell,
- ariel mohammed,
- camden market,
- carmody james,
- celia arden,
- dodge howells,
- dominique ali,
- eden bright,
- eli jacobs,
- elodie bennett,
- gryff jones,
- jack warwick,
- jenny 'sparks' chen,
- lucy malin,
- meda bennett,
- nix gordon,
- romilly bright,
- shopping trips,
- spencer reid,
- threnody harper,
- vikram 'suicide' singh
Outside of Muses: Camden Market, Christmas 2032
At first glance, the busy street Nix ushers Reid out to looks like something out of a Charles Dickens book, although slightly more sanitised than that. The street is narrow and jammed with stalls selling a massive variety of food, clothing, small animals, tools, odd-looking electronics and virtually anything (and everything) else. Few people in the street look particularly well-off - or particularly clean - although there's a wild variation in outfits, ages, genders and races. There are even horses and carts, although the occasional electric flicker betrays the fact that the horses, at least, are some kind of hologram, and in the sky are pigeons, and odd flying shapes that look as if they might be some kind of motorcycle or quadbike. Far off, and high up, an odd-looking machine like a train or perhaps a tram whirrs and rattles along elevated rails into the distance as it snakes through the tallest buildings.
The overall impression is that of noise and ragged colour and smoky late-afternoon air, all highlighted by the rather incongruous-looking strands of fairylights and the lightly falling snow. London smells odd: not entirely unpleasant, but smoky and damp, with an odd note of petrol and oils, maybe even gunpowder, behind the smells of dozens of cultures' worth of cooking food.
Nix turns to Reid with a laughing, red-lipped grin, gesturing with her furled umbrella. The door she's holding open for him is now that of a pub, the George Cross, with people laughing, shouting and drinking behind them as they had been in Milliways, but unlike Milliways it's far pokier, darker and overheated: it's no surprise that she preferred to drink at the end of the universe, when the opportunity presented itself.
"Welcome to London!"
The overall impression is that of noise and ragged colour and smoky late-afternoon air, all highlighted by the rather incongruous-looking strands of fairylights and the lightly falling snow. London smells odd: not entirely unpleasant, but smoky and damp, with an odd note of petrol and oils, maybe even gunpowder, behind the smells of dozens of cultures' worth of cooking food.
Nix turns to Reid with a laughing, red-lipped grin, gesturing with her furled umbrella. The door she's holding open for him is now that of a pub, the George Cross, with people laughing, shouting and drinking behind them as they had been in Milliways, but unlike Milliways it's far pokier, darker and overheated: it's no surprise that she preferred to drink at the end of the universe, when the opportunity presented itself.
"Welcome to London!"
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Aeronwy, now breathing normally, carefully picks her way down the train to them and smiles where she sees Elodie. "I'd wondered where she'd got to," she says calmly, and holds out her arms for the little girl. "Come along, Ely - the train's almost stopped."
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"Both?" he offers.
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Aeronwy takes Elodie out of his arms with an experienced air, and the little girl waves a cheerful goodbye to him. "See you later, Spencer!"
The older woman smiles at him, too. "You seem to have made a friend. I'll get the story later." She gives Nix a significant look, and gets a sigh and a nod in response. "For now, I have a job to do. And I don't much fancy waking Meda up." She shakes her head, beginning to make her way back down to the train. "I'd say that they don't pay me enough, except that they don't pay me..."
A few moments later, the train pulls to a stop.
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She lets the others precede them off the train before she takes Reid's hand once more. "I think this time, we'll try being subtle," she says to him and Threnody, stepping off the train with them. "Gryff, go and be distracting? We'll catch you up later."
They're in another station, now, but where the old sign once rested a new one has been bolted securely into place, one that reads 'WELCOME TO CYBERIA' in gleaming steel lettering. The place is clean, brightly-lit and comfortably heated; the tail-end of their group can be seen in the form of Celia, Ariel and Eden as they head up a twisting staircase at the end of the platform. Dominique is still waiting to one side, but the driver's door of the train opens and a plump Chinese girl emerges with a smile; Dominique takes her hand and they head up the stairs together.
"Work, work, work..." Gryff grins at Nix, saluting Reid brusquely. "Nice meeting you, Spencer. Girls, behave, that's all I ask. See you later!"
He trots up the stairs in front of them.
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"So, now what?" he asks.
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She tugs him up the steps, boots clattering dully on the tiles, and Threnody follows. At the top is a long corridor, as round as the others, and busy with people: given their extreme weighting towards the young, it almost resembles a high school, with people hurrying along in both directions, frequently clutching books, bags or various forms of unusual technology.
Just around a corner, Gryff says "Evening, Challie!" in a voice deliberately pitched just a shade too high, and both girls swear.
"Mamma!" Threnody yelps, and grabs Reid's hand in turn, towing him in the opposite direction. "Come on, we'll take the lifts! Move it!"
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"I take it she... doesn't know?" he manages to say.
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"Only too fuckin' well." And it might be that thought that causes her to pick up the pace even more, even though they're probably out of immediate danger. People get out of the way as they move, having learnt from experience that when the bosslady's two daughters are running, there's probably a good reason for it.
The lifts, when they get to them a few moments later, are completely normal-looking, and Threnody thumps the call button with a slightly breathless laugh. Nix is giggling, too, as she leans against the wall.
"Remind me again how I get myself into these things?"
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The lift arrives, doors sliding open, and she sighs. "I had 'oped it'd open on the bar. No such luck. Well, come on, then."
Threnody tumbles in, tugging Reid with her, and relaxes a little as the doors close. "What number, Nix?"
The older girl shrugs. "Anything relatively out of the way. Dorms?"
"You got it." She punches the button marked B7, and the lift moves downwards with a clunk.
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Nix shrugs. "Depends on where you reckon everything stops. Dorms are about at about the halfway point, though - and this lift doesn't go all the way."
"It's about the only thing in this place that doesn't," Threnody cracks, making her sister snort.
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"Some of it was, some of it wasn't," she says in answer to Reid's question. "Lot of the original tunnelling in this bit just got shut up and forgotten about."
Threnody fusses with a loose strand of pink ribbon in her hair, twisting it around her finger. "Some got put in before our time - Mamma wasn't the founder of the Underground or anything. Some's been put in since she took over."
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The lift comes to a halt with a small lurch, and after a moment the doors open ... on Milliways. Threnody punches the air.
Chorused, "Fuck yeah!"
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"I guess... this is goodbye for now," he says. "But... be careful, okay?"
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"Being careful's no fun," Nix says, putting her foot in the doorway before the lift doors can close. She gives him a smile. "Sorry we got you shot at."
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Though introducing Nix and Garcia might be hazardous to someone's health.
He hesitates a moment more, and then steps through.
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Five... Four... Three... Two... One!
Reid gets kissed on the cheek by both girls at once.
"Happy Christmas!"
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The narration mourns the lack of an appropriate icon.
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