Who: Evan (solo) What: time traveling When: April 2nd, 2032 (April 2nd, 2042) Where: his apartment to start Rated: maybe high for language
It had been an ordinary night. He'd done his paperwork for the gym. He'd showered and cleaned the dinner mess. He and Natalie had fallen asleep by the usual time. There was nothing strange about any of it. Really, nothing at all. Even as he woke up in the middle of the night to take his clockwork piss, he couldn't help but feel extremely normal. Unfortunately for him, it was a feeling short lived. As he was washing his hands, he felt a sneeze coming on. And then another. And another. And another. There was an odd rumble in his stomach, a weird pull behind his nose, and then nothing. Blinking a few times, he wiped his nose with his wrist, coughed a couple times and then stumbled his way back to bed.
The next morning, Evan woke bright and early to the sun shining right in his eyes. "Fuck, Natalie," he groaned, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. "You forgot to close the shades last night." He made a few more unpleasant, throaty noises to show his displeasure before realizing that he wasn't being humored. This happened occasionally. It's often said that the best way to get someone to stop being dramatic is to ignore them altogether. And while he understood this process and often practiced it at work or with his family, he didn't like it when it was done to him.
"Pay attention to me," he whined, reaching his arm, blindly, towards Natalie's side of the bed. His hand landed not on a soft, warm body but on a tangle of blankets and sheets. He felt around a little and only after insuring that he was alone did he finally raise his head from his pillow. The sun, if possible, was even brighter than had woken him up. "Nat?" He called, loud enough for it to reverberate through the apartment. It seemed to echo for miles. Confused, he took a thorough look around and realized why. The place was empty. Really empty. Apart from his bed, there was nothing else in there. And it looked like nothing else had been there for quite a while.
A thick layer of dust covered the floor and walls, and the windows gave Evan the distinct feeling that they hadn't been washed in years. Crusted, and scattered with dead flies, it was a wonder that the sun could shine through as clearly as it was. What the hell was going on? Where was he? Or better yet, when was he?
It certainly wasn't 2032, that much was certain. He was still in his apartment, but it didn't appear to be his anymore. It didn't appear to be anyone's for that matter. "Fuck." He had done it again: time traveled, or whatever he was supposed to call it. It sounded so stupid, but what else could he say? "Hello?" No answer. "Fuck fuck fuck," he mumbled under his breath. What was he going to do?
First thing first, he hopped out of bed. It was a godsend that he'd remembered to put on shorts the previous night. His shirt, though, was obviously not on the floor where he'd left it, and he was willing to bet his shoes weren't in the coat closet. He was going to have to steal. He could manage that. Though, it was possible he might be able to borrow the things he needed from someone. He was friendly enough, and people generally liked him. It wouldn't be hard to make up a story as to why he was barefoot, suddenly broke and locked out of his... house? He wasn't sure where he lived now. He'd have to remember not to invite anyone to follow him around.
"Attention citizens," a loud voice knocked Evan from his thoughts. He crossed the threshold to the window and stood to the side, just out of view, but enough that he could see what was going on. "At 09:00 hours today, a dangerous individual escaped from holding area B. It is not yet known if he was aided in his breakout. All must be on high alert, and those with a clearance above level II must report immediately." Evan waited for more, but it seemed as though the message was over. He watched in awe as, over the course of a few minutes, several men and women stepped out of their houses and headed towards Town Hall. Strange. He'd never heard of holding area B. He'd also never heard anything about clearance levels. And he'd certainly never heard a fucking announcement like that. Did they turn the island into a prison, or something?
Carefully, he stepped away from the window. He didn't want sudden movement in an abandoned apartment to be noticed, especially if someone dangerous was on the loose. The last thing he needed was to be suspected of being some kind of armed criminal, but it kind of seemed inevitable that he was going to be stopped and/or questioned the minute he left the building. He had no shirt or shoes on. Regardless of whether or not he was the one they were looking for, he still guaranteed to bring unwanted attention. "Fuck it," he said, and headed for the door.
The first thing he realized was that it was still fairly chilly out. There were little buds on the trees, though and the town had that light green look that occasionally happens when plants are trying to come out of hibernation. Evan guessed he was still in spring. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was certainly better than being topless in the snow, for sure. But it was likely to prove worthwhile for him to find out exactly what the date was, so he headed in the direction of the nearest news stand.
From his experience living in the area for nearly his entire life, Evan happened to know there was one of those self serving newspaper kiosks by the corner. He walked as quickly as he could without looking like he had too much purpose, until he reached it. It seemed like hours had gone by, and he realized when he reached out to pull it open, that he'd been holding his breath. With a few nonchalant glances around, he extended his hand and grabbed a paper. The first thing he noticed was the headline.
The Search For Hellfire Continues How Officials Are Reacting To The Op. Base Bombing
The second thing he noticed was the date: April 2nd, 2042.