romaneseuntdomus: but he looks DECEPTIVELY SASSY here. (motherfucker what.)
[personal profile] romaneseuntdomus posting in [community profile] coquaigne
Esca doesn't realize he's walked through any door, at first, because the door to the peristyle at the Aquila Vila don't have doors, precisely. It takes Esca a moment to realize what's happened, and in that moment he walks into and onto a bed, of the softest quality he's ever encountered. The shift in perception shocks him further, and he turns, scaring and confused. An open door behind him leads back to the garden. But here... There are things to explore. Gently, he closes the door, and walks out.

The floor is soft under his feet, softer than fresh grass, and the air is pleasantly chilled like the best days at home. There are shining metal boxes open, but nothing happens when he walks inside, and eventually he finds stares that take him to identical rooms. None of the doors are locked, though it does take Esca some time to understand that one must twist the handle to open them.

He repeats this descent until he finds himself in a large room full of color and sound; multiple booths call out to him like sirens, and he is at once curious and skeptical. He wishes he had brought a sword. As is, in a shirt and braccae, he feels slightly exposed.

He climbs atop one of the nearest flashing booths, this one bright yellow and shouting about 'slots'. Crouching, he cups his hands around his mouth and calls out to allies. "Am I alone? Show yourself, friend! I mean no harm, and have naught which you could steal."

Date: 2012-06-24 03:02 pm (UTC)
marthy: really and truly pleased. (big: grin.)
From: [personal profile] marthy
"Brittania? So, Britain. Same thing--you're from England, too." Martha's about the same height, but she doesn't try to draw herself up in return; she's not taking this quite so seriously. That earlier niggling confusion has returned, though. It feels she's missing just one or two pieces to the puzzle of a man before her, but it's impossible to get a sense of who he is without them. "D'you really call it Brittania?"

Date: 2012-06-24 03:09 pm (UTC)
marthy: won't tell a soul.  probably. (big: tell me a secret.)
From: [personal profile] marthy
"They? Who's 'they'?" Because England hasn't been a thousand different kingdoms since...oh.

Hey, wait.

Martha frowns.

"You're, uh. You're talking about the Romans again, aren't you."

Date: 2012-06-24 03:17 pm (UTC)
marthy: won't tell a soul.  probably. (big: tell me a secret.)
From: [personal profile] marthy
Well, that only lends credence to the possibility that he's serious. "You'd know better than me. What, uh, what year do you think it is?"

Date: 2012-06-24 03:28 pm (UTC)
marthy: won't tell a soul.  probably. (big: tell me a secret.)
From: [personal profile] marthy
Well, that's about as clear as mud. Martha can do C.E. and B.C.E., but not...founding dates, whatever those are. "Since the founding of what?"

Date: 2012-06-24 03:34 pm (UTC)
marthy: won't tell a soul.  probably. (big: tell me a secret.)
From: [personal profile] marthy
"Oh," she says faintly, eyes widening. Well, she's willing to believe him--if she can wander into a casino in 2020, why can't someone else do the same a few thousand years ago? It's not like he got those clothes from Benetton.

It stops making sense if she thinks about it too long, but so dos the fact that her toilet was replaced with a hotel in the first place. "That's...that's a long time ago, where I'm from. That's all."

Date: 2012-06-24 03:48 pm (UTC)
marthy: so you're a vegan now, george. (big: eyebrow raise)
From: [personal profile] marthy
"Thousands of years." Martha can be helpful! Here, she'll let you know just how far away your experience is from hers, Esca. And sometimes she can actually even come close to the mark on that; she wants to reassure him after his face grows worried and surprised at the revelation that she hasn't the faintest idea where Eboracon is. "It might still exist--we might just call it something else. I mean, London still exists, and the Romans called that Londinium. Didn't they?"

Date: 2012-06-24 03:58 pm (UTC)
marthy: whatever's going on, i like it. (big: crooked smile.)
From: [personal profile] marthy
"Now it's London. It's a really great city--my brother and I both go to uni there." She's racking her brain for places that sound like 'Eboracon' and can't come up with any. Except maybe Edinburgh, but he doesn't sound Scottish. Of course, the accent's probably different two thousand years on, so she probably can't rely on that for anything. "I'm Martha, by the way."

Date: 2012-06-24 04:10 pm (UTC)
marthy: really and truly pleased. (big: grin.)
From: [personal profile] marthy
Martha wasn't sure if they had last names in those times--ancient history wasn't her favourite subject (or, at least, not British ancient history). But if they do, she supposes she won't confuse him if she gives him hers. "Martha Laurence-Tharkay. It's nice to meet you."

Date: 2012-06-24 04:23 pm (UTC)
marthy: so you're a vegan now, george. (big: eyebrow raise)
From: [personal profile] marthy
Martha glances around at the slot machines with their brightly coloured displays and occasional tinkling music. One in the corner keeps shouting WHEEL! OF! FORTUNE!, and it occurs to her how overwhelming the idea of electric lights must be, let alone screaming neon. "Not exactly. I don't go to a lot of casinos, though. If you want, we can go somewhere else."

Date: 2012-06-24 04:34 pm (UTC)
marthy: whatever's going on, i like it. (big: crooked smile.)
From: [personal profile] marthy
Martha assumes that this is too much for the poor fellow--she can't help condescending a little in her mind, knowing now that he's from the distant past--and thus thinks she's doing a very good deed right now. "Well, these're slot machines here--all of this is for gambling. I looked at the directory, and there are stores, if you need anything, and restaurants. I'm not sure what else."

Date: 2012-06-24 04:45 pm (UTC)
marthy: whatever's going on, i like it. (big: crooked smile.)
From: [personal profile] marthy
"Yeah--I've never played slots before, but that's what they are." Martha leads them through an impressive variety of them, and then past craps tables, roulette tables, blackjack tables, and all the rest. "And these are for card games, I think."

She considers the offer of exploration, glancing over at Esca, before nodding. "Why not? I've got time. What do you want to see first?"

Date: 2012-06-24 04:51 pm (UTC)
marthy: please stop kissing in front of me. (big: ^_^)
From: [personal profile] marthy
"Oh, yeah, you haven't got those." What do they have in Roman Britain? Inns? Martha's not sure. "They're like shops just for food--you sit down and order a meal, and they serve it to you. If you're hungry, we can try one."

Date: 2012-06-24 05:11 pm (UTC)
marthy: really and truly pleased. (big: grin.)
From: [personal profile] marthy
In all honesty, Martha would rather eat at home--there are plenty of great restaurants in London, but no one makes quite the same combination of Tibetan, Indian, Turkish, and English foods as Tharkay. Not at the same meal, anyway. But 'home' is too far to drop by outside holidays, so if she's tired of making dinner, restaurants have to do. "All right. I think they're a few floors up. I wonder where the stairs are..." They can try an elevator after the poor man's had something to eat.

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a medieval mythical land of plenty.

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