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sam... gadreel (purevessel) wrote in lost_world, @ 2014-02-04 21:27:00

a sam by any other name (sam m.)
Sam woke with a start, and found himself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. He sat up, and was further disoriented to find that he was staring out a window at a city from high above, giving him a weird sensation of vertigo because of the simple fact that he'd no recollection of being so high off the ground. It passed quickly, thankfully, and he took stock of the room, relieved to see that it was far more modern than the medieval accommodations he'd gotten used to.

He had a phone, and even more importantly, running water. He tested the faucet in the bathroom, and turned it off, turning around to check out the shower-- after days of feeling ill and sore and dirty in more ways than one, there was almost nothing he wanted more in the world than the feeling of hot running water washing over him-- but stopped, going entirely still when he heard a noise. And then he realized something that he probably should have realized immediately: he wasn't alone.

There were many possibilities for who his company was. Most preferable was one of the members of his family, or at least one of the people from his group, and the chances of that were probably decent enough. But there were other, less nice possibilities as well-- the worst of which was the angel in a new vessel, also a distinct possibility, or even a native human of this new world who might have expectations of Sam that he wasn't prepared for. Thankfully, he had woken up still carrying the knife he'd acquired in the last world, so as not to be totally defenseless. Not that it would do him much good against an angel.

He had been moving quietly, except for turning on the water, but he had to assume that the other person-- or being, as it were-- was aware of his presence. All the same, he moved silently out of the bathroom and through the bedroom to the other door, which was closed. Standing with his back to the wall beside the door, he reached out and turned the handle to open it a crack, peeking out. He held the knife ready, in front of his chest, in case they came through hot.

But instead all he saw was a person, one that seemed vaguely familiar. He wasn't getting any hostile vibes right off, so he lowered the knife to his side, holding it carefully hidden behind his wrist and forearm as he stepped out. "So," he said, finding himself somewhat at a loss for words. Frankly, he'd have known better what to do if this was a hostile encounter. "Hi."