02 - Public / Video

[domesheriff]

[Linda comes onto the network today actually dressed casually rather than in her patrol uniform; she's wearing a red T-shirt under a gray sweater jacket over jeans and boots. her hair is pulled back in a braid, and the ever-present engagement ring is on her hand. today of all days, she wants to be wearing it. because despite the dome and her relocation, she's still counted the days, and she knows that if none of that had happened, this would be it--this would be her wedding day. and having realized that, it's a thought she can't get out of her head]

Hey, is anybody free today? [her tone is casual, but there's something a little anxious in the way she's standing. she has her hands in front of her and is unthinkingly playing with the ring as well] I'm off, and I don't want to spend the day sitting around alone. I'll take you to lunch--my treat. Or...I don't know, a walk in the gardens, or even some games in the arcade? Maybe a drink at Pugsy's tonight. Sound good to anybody?

[she smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. still, despite the feelings she's fighting, she's determined not to spend today moping. she's going to distract herself with new friends and fun instead]

Comments

[domesheriff]

[his way of speaking is still baffling, but she understands it well enough to smile in amusement] Then how about I meet you at the entrance to the gardens?

[what_ho_jeeves]

I shall be there forthwith, awaiting your arrival.

Cheery-o!

[domesheriff]

[Linda heads straight for the gardens, as agreed, wondering what a walk and lunch with someone as odd as Bertie is going to be like. because who ends a conversation with "cheery-o," really? she didn't realize people like that existed outside of movies]

[what_ho_jeeves]

[Bertie is waiting in the gardens for it, hat on his head and walking stick in his gloved hands. He was sniffing the flowers as she approaches but once he sees her, he stops and straightens and tips his hat to her.]

What ho, what ho, Linda! What a blustery winter's day, what? The sort of day that stirs the blood and makes one want to read gothic novels about fair fillies standing forlorn on dark and windswept moors.

[domesheriff]

[Bertie continues to defy expectations with his appearance and his manner--or maybe at this point "live up to them" is more accurate. Linda's not sure]

[in any case, her expression is a little bemused as she comes up to him] Hey, Bertie. Uh, yeah, it's...definitely getting pretty cold. [she understood that much of what he said, at least]

So you...like gardens? Or just walking?

[it's the best conversation-starter that's coming to her mind at the moment]

[what_ho_jeeves]

Gardens are all well and good, but it's more the walking than the gardens qua gardens...if qua is the word I want. I like to ankle about every day, take in the fresh air, see the sights. When staying at a country house, this usually means taking a turn or two around the gardens, but back in the metrop I percolate...perspirate...perambulate! that's the chap, I perambulate around the neighbourhood.

[domesheriff]

[she really understood less than half of that but is, on the bright side fairly confident that she's managed to infer about three-quarters of what he's getting at despite the odd words]

Where are you from? I mean, England, but...

[she trails off, still trying to work out what a "metrop" is]

[what_ho_jeeves]

The family has estates all over the south, but I dwell mostly in my London flat, punctuated by the occasional sojourn to New York. Corking place but that they've outlawed the drinking and selling of alcohol there. That's positively inhumane if you ask me.

[domesheriff]

Wait, they've what?

[she did understand him this time, but she can't believe it. then again, she reminds herself, different universe. if people can be here from different worlds and even the future, both possibilities that she's already come to terms with, then why not the past?]

Bertie, what year is it where you're from?

[what_ho_jeeves]

It is the year of our Lord, 1930. I thought everyone knew that. Except for Barmy. Good old Barmy. He forgets his own address. Jolly fine chap, though.

[domesheriff]

[Linda shakes her head, still not sure she can believe this and wondering how she might convince Bertie if she's having trouble convincing herself]

[but it is the only answer that makes sense, and she knows it] Not for me. When I left Chester's Mill, it was 2013.