Grant Douglas Ward (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
in_revision) wrote2015-08-06 07:34 pm
in_revision) wrote2015-08-06 07:34 pm
Lost in the Lost and Found
He hits the ground with enough force to drive the air out of his lungs and leave him gaping like a landed fish. His only thought is to get back to his feet, get back up before Barton can put him down.
Except he cannot hear the other agent.
Except when he finally orients himself, blinking blearily, the heavy wooden bulk of the bar has disappeared.
Except it seems Agent Barton has disappeared as well.
Grant Ward has absolutely no idea where he is.
The room he finds himself is smaller than the bar-room he should be in. It doesn't have tables, or booths, or chairs, or patrons. Beyond what is missing, there's also what has been added - piles and piles of stuff. There are blankets and toys and steak knives. There's a broken rocking horse with only one rocker, something that looks disturbingly like a crown dangling off one ear. There's a whole pile of fluffy-headed troll dolls, their eyes gleaming dully in the dim light. There's everything down here.
Everything except anything that makes sense.
"Um. Hello?" He's still geared up for a fight, but it seems none is forthcoming. Silence greets his call.
Damn aliens.
Ward, heaving a resigned sigh as he regains his feet, decides that it seems staying put will do him no good at all. Time to see what supplies he can gather.
Except he cannot hear the other agent.
Except when he finally orients himself, blinking blearily, the heavy wooden bulk of the bar has disappeared.
Except it seems Agent Barton has disappeared as well.
Grant Ward has absolutely no idea where he is.
The room he finds himself is smaller than the bar-room he should be in. It doesn't have tables, or booths, or chairs, or patrons. Beyond what is missing, there's also what has been added - piles and piles of stuff. There are blankets and toys and steak knives. There's a broken rocking horse with only one rocker, something that looks disturbingly like a crown dangling off one ear. There's a whole pile of fluffy-headed troll dolls, their eyes gleaming dully in the dim light. There's everything down here.
Everything except anything that makes sense.
"Um. Hello?" He's still geared up for a fight, but it seems none is forthcoming. Silence greets his call.
Damn aliens.
Ward, heaving a resigned sigh as he regains his feet, decides that it seems staying put will do him no good at all. Time to see what supplies he can gather.