Florence Trumper stands by her champion (notachesspiece) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2011-06-06 17:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | florence vassy, roger davis |
Who: Florence Vassy and OPEN (who wants to take pity on That 70s Girl?)
What: New in town? Yeah.
When: Monday afternoon
Where: Some random sidewalk in town
Rating: Give it a K+ for the freakingoutness
Status: Incomplete
It was bad enough to take someone from all that was familiar and comforting and toss them in the middle of the end of the world. It was even worse when it was someone who had nothing to do with the supernatural or the paranormal or anything out of the ordinary at all. And even worse when you dragged someone across four decades to do so.
Florence was both.
In time, she'd come to understand that others were in the same mess she was in. And that some of them had been taken from much different circumstances and much longer distances. But at that moment all she knew was that she was not in Bangkok. The people around her were far too Caucasian for that. And the accents she heard meant she wasn't in London, either. American, she'd guess, maybe the South. Closer to that guy from the Oklahoma City tournament than the Los Angeles native she'd beaten three years ago. Or the harsh northern edge a certain cocky ex of hers had.
If she took time to breathe and focus, she could figure it out. No problem. She'd been kidnapped? That wasn't entirely impossible, she had ended up in the middle of an international scandal, after all. Though why she'd end up in America and not know it was beyond her. Drugged, maybe.
A car went by, a model she'd never seen, but she had to attribute it to the country she was in. The buildings were similar, though some looked far too artsy to be normal. She needed to find someone who could point her to the Embassy. That's what she'd do. Get back to England quickly and then figure out who to release her wrath on.
And then she saw it. The newspaper boxes, three of them side by side with different titles, but each containing the same date. June 6, 2011.
If she'd been confused before, now she was just downright ill. That wasn't possible, but it was a hell of a lot to go though for a hoax. The unfamiliar world started spinning in front of her eyes and Florence found herself grasping the closest wall just to stay upright. If she couldn't get herself together, and soon, she'd either pass out or be sick right there, playing up to whoever was trying to trick her. She couldn't allow it. Rather, she wouldn't.