Desaturated (Dean)
Cavan didn't particularly enjoy anything that he was hearing during the meeting. He kept thinking to himself that he could have been back home, in Portland, doing the thing that he loved best. But no, nope. He'd gotten it into his head that he needed to see mysterious happenings. He just had to fucking know what was going on.
Goddamned York.
If he hadn't gone to York, he wouldn't have gone to Electric City. He wouldn't have been abducted by aliens. He wouldn't have had to ride in the TARDIS, and he wouldn't have gotten yelled at by some projection of a girl for going into a library.
It was an irrational train of thought, especially if he took a moment to think about it. All of the stuff he'd seen and done, it was all pretty excellent. He'd had fun with the vampire. He couldn't even lie to himself about that. But right now, in this instant, waking up in some strange diner that he was sure wasn't on the same planet that they'd been on with the freaky Easter Halloween motif, right now, Cavan was cursing the world.
He squirmed a little in the booth, and realized he wasn't wearing jeans and a tshirt. Quick inspection informed him he was in a three piece number. Who had changed his clothes worried him a bit. The Doctor might not be the probing kind of alien, but nobody had promised him the others weren't. If they'd taken his clothes off, what else had they done?
Worse than that, he seemed to also now be color blind.
"Fucking. God. Fucking. Shit." His focus came to his boothmate. At least he had a familiar face with him. Though a glance around told him that everyone from the meeting had been dumped in this spot. "Hey, Dean."