by Danny and T5
Danny Hearn and Turkish Stringfellow sat at opposite sides of the meeting table, quietly observing each other. They were in the building's large meeting room waiting for the plane to arrive. Danny wore on his face curiosity and some skepticism. He looked the tall, bald man up and down, taking in every detail. Stringfellow's face remained rather more stoic and impassive, although he was not without his share of curiosity.
"You're not from the future, are you?" Danny asked.
Stringfellow paused a moment, looking reflective. "I cannot remember," he finally answered.
They both snapped to attention at the sudden arrival of a voice from above them.
"Attention all team members. The plane will be arriving in minutes. Get your stuff, change into uniform, and meet downstairs," came Kit Piper's voice from the recently installed PA system ("It'll let me talk to any of you, whenever I want!" he'd exclaimed when he bought it. He was more excited about that fact than anyone else had been).
Danny excused himself from the table and walked to the elevator. This Stringfellow... fellow is a strange bastard, I'll give him that, he thought. Is all this amnesia stuff for real? And if it is... can we really help him? Finding out where he came from could be a hell of a task.
He pressed the button for the elevator, and the doors slid shut behind him. Elevators... twenty-first century elevators. They're so... confined... and noisy. The only thing worse than an elevator is stairs.
There's a ding, and the doors opened. This isn't my floor. Danny looked down and realized that he'd accidentally pressed the button for the eighth floor. He'd never been on this floor before. And given Lance's story about the bar, he was a little hesitant. But ultimately, he sacrificed the life of a perfectly innocent cat and let curiosity overwhelm him.
He walked on into the main hallway of the eighth floor. The first thing he noticed was the cold. This place is colder than the rest of the building. Must be a breeze or something. Someone probably left a window open. It might be pretty windy outside, after all.
The second thing he noticed was the surprising neatness of the place. It looks so... untouched.
"...you do not belong here..."
What the hell was that?
"Outsider..."
Great. Just when I got used to an invisible stranger's voice inside my head, I get them outside...
"Stranger..."
Stop it. Please.
"Not your time... not your place..."
Fuck that.
"...not your world..."
No.
"...not your friends..."
I'm not listening.
"...not you."
Danny ran back to the elevator and went back down to the seventh floor. He rushed into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.
What the fuck was that?
He quickly packed his bag with a few clothes and put on his uniform.
Naecken looked at the garments he was supposed to wear and shrugged. He put them on and presented himself to the team. Hidden guffaws and smiles spread across the faces of his friends.
"The darkness has no need for clothes," he said apologetically.
"You do that on purpose, don't you?" asked Danny.
"Do what? said Naecken innocently.
"The mixed sentences and weird, inconsistent time frames."
"I'm sorry, friend Danny. I'm not sure I know what you're talking about. I have never mentioned anything about time today."
"You told the new guy... errr, Stringfellow, that you looked forward to seeing him an hour ago."
"Friend Danny, you must have mixed up your conversations. I would never say something like that," he replied, then sat down again and started to meditate.
"But... he did." Danny looked at the others for help. "Is he losing his memory? Or is he splitting up again?"