Maybe it's because it's what he'd....expected? Most desperately wished for? Needed to hear? Whatever, but just for a moment the foghorn sounds like the sweet, familiar strains of the TARDIS materializing. Then the note deepens, elongates, and Fitz's eyes snap open and he sits up, patting himself down to make sure he's in one piece. He is, which is weird since a blinding white light, an explosion heard as far as Moscow...he's pretty sure he shouldn't be.
"Christ." Fitz barely manages to not knock over his lantern and does knock over a couple of sand bottles, one of which explodes (stay tuned for details) in his haste to get up, then nearly falls over again as feeling returns to his cold-numbed limbs. Once he steadies himself and decides that taking the lantern and tablet are a good idea, he heads up to the deck.
Have a tall bloke, dressed in Victorian cold-weather survival gear, with a stubbly chin and dark, messy hair, who hasn't had a proper bath in longer than he wants to think about. Maybe incongruously he's poking at the tablet like he has an idea what it's for, and he's singing along with the music since...well, it's pretty much the only thing which is making sense to him at the moment.
"Give him two lips like roses and clover...then tell him that his lonesome nights are over."
The Invincible - conversation likely to involve sand-induced drowsiness eventually
After acquiring other clothes - a long-sleeved knit shirt and jeans which fit but are several inches too short - Fitz makes his way to the inn where he gets himself the cleanest he's been since leaving St. Petersburg and changes into his new duds. Finally, he feels ready to attend to important business.
He heads back down stairs and walks straight up to the bar.
"Can I please have a...er..." Okay, forest spirit servers are not what he was expecting and he's flummoxed. He turns to a fellow patron. "Hi, I've just arrived, and I have stupid questions."
The Village - dread!day!Beacon
Fitz was a young child during the Blitz, and some of his earliest memories are of wailing sirens and his mother's features obscured by a respirator mask as she helped put one over his face. So this sunny, joyful scene is really fucking unsettling.
He walks the paths, dodges kids, and yearns for a cigarette or twelve. Over by the ice cream stand he spots someone else without a mask and approaches with a wave.
Fitz Kriener | Doctor Who
Maybe it's because it's what he'd....expected? Most desperately wished for? Needed to hear? Whatever, but just for a moment the foghorn sounds like the sweet, familiar strains of the TARDIS materializing. Then the note deepens, elongates, and Fitz's eyes snap open and he sits up, patting himself down to make sure he's in one piece. He is, which is weird since a blinding white light, an explosion heard as far as Moscow...he's pretty sure he shouldn't be.
"Christ." Fitz barely manages to not knock over his lantern and does knock over a couple of sand bottles, one of which explodes (stay tuned for details) in his haste to get up, then nearly falls over again as feeling returns to his cold-numbed limbs. Once he steadies himself and decides that taking the lantern and tablet are a good idea, he heads up to the deck.
Have a tall bloke, dressed in Victorian cold-weather survival gear, with a stubbly chin and dark, messy hair, who hasn't had a proper bath in longer than he wants to think about. Maybe incongruously he's poking at the tablet like he has an idea what it's for, and he's singing along with the music since...well, it's pretty much the only thing which is making sense to him at the moment.
"Give him two lips like roses and clover...then tell him that his lonesome nights are over."
The Invincible - conversation likely to involve sand-induced drowsiness eventually
After acquiring other clothes - a long-sleeved knit shirt and jeans which fit but are several inches too short - Fitz makes his way to the inn where he gets himself the cleanest he's been since leaving St. Petersburg and changes into his new duds. Finally, he feels ready to attend to important business.
He heads back down stairs and walks straight up to the bar.
"Can I please have a...er..." Okay, forest spirit servers are not what he was expecting and he's flummoxed. He turns to a fellow patron. "Hi, I've just arrived, and I have stupid questions."
The Village - dread!day!Beacon
Fitz was a young child during the Blitz, and some of his earliest memories are of wailing sirens and his mother's features obscured by a respirator mask as she helped put one over his face. So this sunny, joyful scene is really fucking unsettling.
He walks the paths, dodges kids, and yearns for a cigarette or twelve. Over by the ice cream stand he spots someone else without a mask and approaches with a wave.
"Hey. Any idea what the hell's going on here?"