*Mentally shaking off the feeling of creeping nausea. Sitting up opening my eyes from where I fell seeing that the bar whose floor I am on is not Fangtasia. The gas lamps cast a eerie glow on the walls that were maroon but once where red before the grime and gosh knows what changed them. Looking around the fixtures were ebonized wood, so one would think, they just needed a good cleaning to show they are burled oak. Feeling everyone in the pubs eyes on me I stand up dusting off my jeans, looking at the onlookers, I feel as if I stepped into a Dickensian novel. The starched shirts and stiff cravats, and the silk ties that are knotted in a puffy frivolous way. Hearing the bartenders cockney accent adding to the flavor,*
"Oy You on the floor, where you came from isn't known, but I run a respectable establishment here, I don't serve to tipplers and sally hearts, so shove off."
*Looking at the burly man who's fists looked like hams. I held up my hands and headed towards the door, when a man in a dusty ratty black coat stops me saying,*
"You look a little lost, and people like you can be swallowed up here in White Chapel, never to be seen again. Come on home with me I am Phineas Applebottom, owner and creator of the Orpheus Theatre, one of the last theaters in greater London who still tread the stage with the immortal Bard, William Shakespeare."
Thank you I am Daniel Grimaldi, and I know this is a strange question but what is the date?
*The wizened old man looks at me with a knowing smile cackling like a besom.*
"You have the look of a traveler, I have met a few in my time, todays date is October 18, 1876."
*My mouth drops open and staring at him, I am 136 years in the past? Thinking this must be a nightmare, pinching myself, feeling the effects of pain, knowing this is happening.*
So I am 136 years in the past. Wow do the "travelers" as you call them stay here forever or do we go back to the time we traveled from?
*The man looks at me smiling, like he knows more about the world than he would ever tell, winks*
"It all depends on the person, if they want to go back they do, some find love here and stay."
How does one stay or even go back? I have no clue as how I got here.
*We reach out destination of the small theater on a tiny side street, I haven't been to London so the dreary fog and chill in the air, make me shiver.*
"The travelers come here for a purpose and once that purpose is fulfilled they return. I have been here nearly 45 years. My purpose hasn't been fulfilled. I like the slower pace and knowing history as I do, I am known something of a prophet. I maintain a low profile or I would mar the wrinkles of time."
*Wrinkles of time? The old man has been here all this time, and hasn't tried to return. I am a modern man trapped in antiquity, I know I won't fare well.*
"Come meet my merry band of characters, we are about to mount a production of Taming of the Shrew. You have to meet our leading lady, I think the both of you will hit it off."
*Following him up a set of rickety stairs to a door, he pulls out a gleaming silver like key turning and looking at me grinning,*
"Titanium, it's not as easy to find in this age, but I find the properties of the metal very useful."
*He opens the door and we walk into the metal worker Geppetto's workshop. Half built metal bodies strewn everywhere, some hanging from the rafters like marionettes waiting for someone to pull their strings. He walks over to a doorway covered with a metal beaded curtain, parting it when enter into a forest of "lifelike people" standing there with no expression, no movement, as in stasis. He weaves through the crowd to stop in front of this petite beauty staring at the floor with avid curiosity. Peering at her closely her "skin" had a luminosity to it, that human skin could never replicate. Her hair was shoulder length titanium filaments curled into a becoming hairstyle, her dress was on closer inspection what one would take for patterning it was a series of wiring and pneumatic tubing that fueled this beauties system. Looking into her face her eyes made of ivory and the iris was a brilliant violet/amethyst color. Looking at her mouth it was luscious and inviting, her lips pursed in a pixie like half smile. Turning to look at Applebottom he watched my every movement and look with undisguised glee.
"I call her Violet because her "eyes" use amethyst as the crystals lenses, so she can see you as well."
*Trying to stifle a yawn, too much has happened in a short amount of time making my brain overload, not to mention the adrenaline rush wearing off, looking around for a pallet to crash.*
"How remiss of me to not show you to your lodgings, it's a small room with a bed and a washstand, I would like to make you the director of the play, I am getting too long in the tooth to do all the work involved. Think on it as you sleep."
*Applebottom was a strange man but I think a undiscovered genius in any time. In the morning I will help him mount his play, since there is nothing else to do, til I figure out a way back I am stuck here better to be busy than broody.*
"Oy You on the floor, where you came from isn't known, but I run a respectable establishment here, I don't serve to tipplers and sally hearts, so shove off."
*Looking at the burly man who's fists looked like hams. I held up my hands and headed towards the door, when a man in a dusty ratty black coat stops me saying,*
"You look a little lost, and people like you can be swallowed up here in White Chapel, never to be seen again. Come on home with me I am Phineas Applebottom, owner and creator of the Orpheus Theatre, one of the last theaters in greater London who still tread the stage with the immortal Bard, William Shakespeare."
Thank you I am Daniel Grimaldi, and I know this is a strange question but what is the date?
*The wizened old man looks at me with a knowing smile cackling like a besom.*
"You have the look of a traveler, I have met a few in my time, todays date is October 18, 1876."
*My mouth drops open and staring at him, I am 136 years in the past? Thinking this must be a nightmare, pinching myself, feeling the effects of pain, knowing this is happening.*
So I am 136 years in the past. Wow do the "travelers" as you call them stay here forever or do we go back to the time we traveled from?
*The man looks at me smiling, like he knows more about the world than he would ever tell, winks*
"It all depends on the person, if they want to go back they do, some find love here and stay."
How does one stay or even go back? I have no clue as how I got here.
*We reach out destination of the small theater on a tiny side street, I haven't been to London so the dreary fog and chill in the air, make me shiver.*
"The travelers come here for a purpose and once that purpose is fulfilled they return. I have been here nearly 45 years. My purpose hasn't been fulfilled. I like the slower pace and knowing history as I do, I am known something of a prophet. I maintain a low profile or I would mar the wrinkles of time."
*Wrinkles of time? The old man has been here all this time, and hasn't tried to return. I am a modern man trapped in antiquity, I know I won't fare well.*
"Come meet my merry band of characters, we are about to mount a production of Taming of the Shrew. You have to meet our leading lady, I think the both of you will hit it off."
*Following him up a set of rickety stairs to a door, he pulls out a gleaming silver like key turning and looking at me grinning,*
"Titanium, it's not as easy to find in this age, but I find the properties of the metal very useful."
*He opens the door and we walk into the metal worker Geppetto's workshop. Half built metal bodies strewn everywhere, some hanging from the rafters like marionettes waiting for someone to pull their strings. He walks over to a doorway covered with a metal beaded curtain, parting it when enter into a forest of "lifelike people" standing there with no expression, no movement, as in stasis. He weaves through the crowd to stop in front of this petite beauty staring at the floor with avid curiosity. Peering at her closely her "skin" had a luminosity to it, that human skin could never replicate. Her hair was shoulder length titanium filaments curled into a becoming hairstyle, her dress was on closer inspection what one would take for patterning it was a series of wiring and pneumatic tubing that fueled this beauties system. Looking into her face her eyes made of ivory and the iris was a brilliant violet/amethyst color. Looking at her mouth it was luscious and inviting, her lips pursed in a pixie like half smile. Turning to look at Applebottom he watched my every movement and look with undisguised glee.
"I call her Violet because her "eyes" use amethyst as the crystals lenses, so she can see you as well."
*Trying to stifle a yawn, too much has happened in a short amount of time making my brain overload, not to mention the adrenaline rush wearing off, looking around for a pallet to crash.*
"How remiss of me to not show you to your lodgings, it's a small room with a bed and a washstand, I would like to make you the director of the play, I am getting too long in the tooth to do all the work involved. Think on it as you sleep."
*Applebottom was a strange man but I think a undiscovered genius in any time. In the morning I will help him mount his play, since there is nothing else to do, til I figure out a way back I am stuck here better to be busy than broody.*
