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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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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Threnody is giggling again on his other side, her goggles slipping down from where they're holding her hair back from her face. "Nice meeting you!"
Bar produces the drinks Gryff had asked for - a sixpack of beer - and Nix picks it up before grabbing Threnody's hand and heading back for their door.
"See you later, Bright Spark!" she calls. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do!"
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"Merry Christmas!"
(Around a week later, a note and an untidily-wrapped little package are left with the bar for Reid. The battered red wrapping paper hides a fat, brassy engraved watch on a chain almost identical to Nix’s, and a rather old-looking copy of Through The Looking Glass, And What Alice Found There whose publication date is noted inside the cover as being 2012. The accompanying note says, in scrawly, looping handwriting:
PS. The watch does more than tell the time.
xxx Veronica Gordon
The watch hides, amongst other things, a light, a set of lockpicks, a tiny circular saw and a few other tricks of Nix's trade. There's also a tiny homing device, but he's not supposed to find that: Gryff suggested that it would probably be advisable to know for absolutely certain that Reid is definitely not from their world.)
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He doesn't know enough about such things to find the tracking device.
But if Nix comes back a little while later, she'll get a large box full of: chocolates, chocolate cake mix (several varieties), and the highest quality hot chocolate mix Garcia could find for him.