the first pedestrian of the apocalypse

[myironeyes]

[Marsh hasn't made a public announcement in a long time. Not since before the last convergence with the mirror barge, in fact. He frequently keeps to himself outside of his work shifts in the kitchen, his inmate, and a dwindling circle of friends, so for many newcomers this may be the first good look they've had of him: a stocky, tired man in his late thirties or early forties, wearing a hooded black cloak nazgul-style and thin, spiky red-and-black tattoos around his eyes - or, rather, where his eyes should be. Instead he has two blunt steel spikes that have been pounded into his sockets.]

There are few differences between myself and my counterpart. It does not matter which of us I am, or where.

I am strong, and fast, and difficult to kill. If you need help, call and I will help you.

[There's a pause, and for a moment it seems like that's all he has to say. But not quite. The Dalek had prevented him from being psychically puppeted last time, but that isn't a guarantee that it won't happen in the future.]

Unless you see me smiling. In that case, run.

[Okay, now he's done.]

Comments

[walkingmeltdown]

Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?

Because it sounds to me like a good deal of your own discomfort is all in your head.

[myironeyes]

You are making me irritated. I don't think you're capable of understanding, and it's too personal for me to want to explain to you.

[walkingmeltdown]

What I'm capable of, some people tend to regularly underestimate. [Tartly, his feathers clearly ruffled to insult.] But you and I have maintained what I'd call civil relations so far - I've no need to start an argument. Especially at this juncture.

[myironeyes]

Consider it a remark on your good fortune.

[It's also a comment on his character, but - well. Civility.]

[walkingmeltdown]

Oh, I'll consider it all right. [All the dry. He knows better than to take this fully at the surface.]

Until we meet again, then, I suppose. Who knows when that will be.