DCI Gene Hunt (asgenehunt) wrote in mirage_rpg, @ 2008-10-24 16:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | arrival, complete, day 20, gene hunt, nymphadora tonks |
Day 20
Who: Gene Hunt and OTA
When: Day 20, morning
What: Arriving
Where: Meadows
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
The London Metropolitan were notoriously amongst the most pragmatic police force in the world, and apart from a few moral issues on his part, he belonged there with the rest of them. Cynical was such an expressive turn of phrase and so useful for people such as him, that trusted nothing others said and only half of what they saw.
But the impossible had happened, and Gene was actually lost for words at where he had blinked and found himself.
Countless minutes had passed since he'd tried to rationalise the sight of the desert behind him, the buildings ahead, the faint sound of life in the distance, and the smell of something that was decidedly not the musty smell of London backstreets, nor the the patina-old warehouses or the continuous exhaust from the city's roads. It was clean air, and definitely not his stalking ground.
His dusty brow furrowed in an ever present frown, but at least all of that proved one thing. This wasn't any self-inflicted delusion, because he wouldn't have churned up a nightmare like this even on a blotter-load of Glenlivets. Besides, any half respective delusion that didn't involve Diana Dors wasn't worth the paper it was written on, in his opinion.
He tried to rationalise for a good two minutes - he was either dreaming, rat-arsed, drugged (and whoever had thought that was a smart idea was going to spend the next month picking leather out of his teeth once he found them out), or had been spending too much time with a certain dolly bird who seemed to have difficulty comprehending reality on a long-term basis.
Then he gave up. Because this was all too real, this was...
"Flamin' Nora," he muttered, and fear was rusty needles beginning to poke at his chest. With the sun shining down unhindered, he remembered in full what it was to be alone. The solitude was of a kind he had rarely experienced before. At least, not since joining the force. Lord help him, he'd even have preferred the alternative of what he could have been doing instead, rolling his eyes at Shaz being caught in Chris' tractor beam stare, having to listen to Ray cough all over the latest case notes, and interrogating a suspected dealer with a ridiculous shirt so loud that even Gene had trouble hearing over it. Still, at least he grown to feel at home with the irritating couple, the viral infection, and standing over Mr. Shirt, even if he would never, ever admit that.
Now, there was nothing for it but to start stalking his way towards the buildings in the light and the heat of the day, black coat oven-warm in the morning sun, wondering what had happened to a world he had thought he understood.