"Now that my acquaintances have introduced themselves, would you mind terribly telling us who you are?" A murmur arose from the men and women around me as it occurred to them that they had never asked for my name. Ivy arched an eyebrow impatiently.
"Oh, no, of course not. My name's Jeff Fisher. I'm an accountant with Kingston Smith. Look, I don't mean to sound rude, but could someone please give me a bit of clarification? What is the guild, why am I suddenly a member, what does that even mean, and where am I, anyway!?"
What had started as a relatively calm speech devolved into hysterics. The comparative peace after the bedlam of introductions had allowed the insanity of my predicament to rush back to me. Ivy's calculating stare hardly helped the situation. Beneath it, my fragile self control crumbled like a dried out sandcastle.
Farley cleared his throat, preparing himself to impart the all important truths of his world upon my green and feeble head. He had nearly finished these weighty mental preparations when Morphan beat him to it.
"We're a Steam Punk organization belonging to the SecSocSoc. You get to join us, because no one else wanted to kill you to keep you quiet. You are currently underneath the Thames flood barrier. As for what it means," she flashed me a mirthless smile too predatory words. "I'm afraid you won't be leaving here any time soon."
The blood rushed from my face so quickly that my eyelids felt too numb to blink. A small part of me, the part usually devoted to remembering my name and other tiny but important bits of information, dropped all of its previous duties and commenced screaming at the top of its metaphorical lungs. It could have followed the rest of my mind's example by analyzing the new information, calculating courses of action based upon said information, considering the implications of said courses of action, and contemplating how I felt about said implications. But no. It decided to fly off the handle and bother the rest of my brain to the point that, if thoughts could kill, mine would have teamed up to bump off the little bugger.
"Mister Fisher? Mister Fisher?" Farley's concerned face hovered in front of my frozen one. Unfortunately, I could not remember my name thanks to the brain cells which had abandoned their duties, so I simply stood there dumbly wondering who Mister Fisher was and why this man was pestering me about him.
What had started as a relatively calm speech devolved into hysterics. The comparative peace after the bedlam of introductions had allowed the insanity of my predicament to rush back to me. Ivy's calculating stare hardly helped the situation. Beneath it, my fragile self control crumbled like a dried out sandcastle.
Farley cleared his throat, preparing himself to impart the all important truths of his world upon my green and feeble head. He had nearly finished these weighty mental preparations when Morphan beat him to it.
"We're a Steam Punk organization belonging to the SecSocSoc. You get to join us, because no one else wanted to kill you to keep you quiet. You are currently underneath the Thames flood barrier. As for what it means," she flashed me a mirthless smile too predatory words. "I'm afraid you won't be leaving here any time soon."
The blood rushed from my face so quickly that my eyelids felt too numb to blink. A small part of me, the part usually devoted to remembering my name and other tiny but important bits of information, dropped all of its previous duties and commenced screaming at the top of its metaphorical lungs. It could have followed the rest of my mind's example by analyzing the new information, calculating courses of action based upon said information, considering the implications of said courses of action, and contemplating how I felt about said implications. But no. It decided to fly off the handle and bother the rest of my brain to the point that, if thoughts could kill, mine would have teamed up to bump off the little bugger.
"Mister Fisher? Mister Fisher?" Farley's concerned face hovered in front of my frozen one. Unfortunately, I could not remember my name thanks to the brain cells which had abandoned their duties, so I simply stood there dumbly wondering who Mister Fisher was and why this man was pestering me about him.
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