Characters Involved: Rory, Emmeline
Location: Post Office

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Emmeline pushes open the entrance to the post office, stepping across its threshold and sweeping her gaze over the room. She'd spent a few days wondering, still trying to figure out how she got here and why she couldn't find a way back to where she'd been. Her lips are pressed into a thin, thoughtful line. Her path hadn't crossed with anyone since the night she met Rory and the werecat, but that was likely because she'd made no attempt to find anyone else. She was hoping she might find one of them here.
Rory has procured the broom and dustpan again, but has not yet resumed cleaning up the place and saying resumed is a stretch because it looks like it hasn?t been touched at all. Something has scattered all of the debris that had been swept up all over the floor of the old post office and next to Rory where the other day there had been a swept up pile of papers is a pile of brown pellets that looks very deliberate. His messy hair hangs in his face as he stares down at it. and looks up, only as the door opens to smile at Emmeline. ?Lovely to see you again, Em.?
Emmeline casts a glance at the pile of papers and the gift that was left upon it. Her nose wrinkles--a clear sign of disgust. She returns the smile with an upward lift of the corners of her own mouth, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Her stare remains perplexed. "Good evening, Rory," she replies, drawing her gaze back to him. "I had some questions I wanted to ask you. Namely, where are you from? Your... accent is interesting. A bit funny, to be honest... but I'm still trying to figure this place out. There's no way home that I can find."
Rory looks from Emmeline?s face down to the mess on the floor. ?Is it just me or does this look very deliberate, like someone is playing a joke?? He nudges the pile of what is obviously poop with the toe of his shoe. ?I?m from London. London England, United Kingdom, planet Earth.?
Emmeline emits a small snort, as if on the verge of laughter, before she answers: "Deliberate." Her hand extends, sweeping the room. "It didn't trash itself, and it was certainly more clean when I left last." When he answers her query, she stares at him blankly. Clearly the swordswoman has no idea what or where that is. "Huh," comes from her mouth, though it's inflection is not meant for him to repeat himself. Her stare returns to Rory. "We are definitely not from the same place."
Rory appears nonplussed by the warrior?s observation; she isn?t telling him anything he doesn?t already know. He sweeps the pile of animal shit into the pan. ?Someone out there has a wank sense of humor,? he mutters at last.
Emmeline raises a shoulder upward into a shrug. "A lot of people do. Why are you cleaning this place up anyway?" she asks, stepping nearer to the counter and leaning against it. She doesn't look at the poop again.

The Morse machine wakes with a sharp metallic click. Without any hand upon it, the mechanism begins tapping rapidly, feeding a narrow strip of paper through itself as the message marks itself out.

.-. --- .-. -.-- --..-- / - .... .. ... / .. ... / ..-. ..- - ..- .-. . / .-. --- .-. -.-- .-.-.- / .. / -.- -. --- .-- / .... --- .-- / - .... .- - / ... --- ..- -. -.. ... .-.-.- / .-.. . .- ...- . / -. --- .-- .-.-.- / - .-. ..- ... - / -- . .-.-.-

Rory shrugs. ?Boredom? Habit? Nothing better to do? The tavern?s dry as a crone?s cunt unless you can speak Spanish, and?? he stops midsentence as sweeping away. The mess reveals one piece of paper that has a mixture of letters and dots. ?Oh get fucked,? he mutters again to no one in particular and then picks up the paper with the broom instead of his hands until it?s close enough to read.
Emmeline forgot about the Morse machine. When it clicks, she flinches and her light green gaze immediately fixes upon the thing warily. Clearly she doesn't like it very much, but that likely came with her lack of knowledge about it beyond what she'd learned last time. "Have you figured out what any of them say yet?" she asks.
Rory shakes his head and frowns down at the page. ?I know it?s Morse Code, an invention of my world, but not what it says. I was cleaning this place up, looking for any kind of instructions or translation materials. But I?ve only got A and?Q, R, S.?
Emmeline furrows her brow. "At least there's only twenty-two more letters to figure out," she muses. Turning her head back toward Rory, she studies him for a moment. "Did you wake up in that weird lake too?" she asks.
Rory squints his eyes shut, but rather than keeping the paper in its current condition, he retrieves his wand, waves it a little in the air and the letters float right off the page and hover above both of their heads. ?Yeah, I did. One minute I?m celebrating the victory of Manchester United over Liverpool and the next?? he gestures with his broom holding hand. ?Grimwych.? Emmeline frowns at his answer. "I've been wondering if I perhaps died, and this is some sort of purgatory. My last memory before I woke up here... was of going to hunt a bean sidhe that was troubling a small village," she admits. She pulls her inner cheek between her teeth and bites down on it thoughtfully. "But I feel very much alive."
Rory grimaces. His head is starting to hurt. Maybe it?s the suddenly strong smell of the room. ?No one?s in bloody purgatory,? he grumbles. ?But I might rather be there than here if I have to keep having this conversation with everybody I see. Fucksake. Sorry.?

Emmeline blinks. Once, twice, a third time before she opens her mouth again and this time it's only to utter the same word he ended his with. "Sorry." Her frown deepens and she straightens up from where she was leaning against the counter, glancing over her shoulder at the entrance. It is clear the woman is suddenly a little uneasy, certain she's bothered the man. "It's just... I haven't ran into anyone else yet. I guess I just keep missing them."
Rory can almost taste Emmeline?s unease on his tongue, when did that triggers tension through his shoulders. ?No, I?m sorry. I was a knob. It isn?t your fault you?re lost and confused just like the rest of us.?
Emmeline lifts her chin slightly, likely an acceptance of the apology. Her gaze sweeps the room again. "So we're... just being collected by this decrepit place," she says more for herself. A soft sigh follows. "I think I need a drink. I've staved off long enough on that, considering the circumstances. Care to join me?"

The Morse machine wakes with a sharp metallic click. Without any hand upon it, the mechanism begins tapping rapidly, feeding a narrow strip of paper through itself as the message marks itself out.

-.. --- / -. --- - / - .-. ..- ... - / .... . .-.

Rory waves his wand again, and the floating letters attach themselves to the wall. Grimwych graffiti. He sets the broom aside and copies them to another piece of paper before nodding to the pretty lady. ?Sure, but there?s not a whole lot to pick from drink wise.?
Emmeline chuckles dryly. "Well, at least there's something... right? You know, it's a scary thought trying to figure out how Grimwych got to where it is now." She steps away from the counter and moves toward the door, watching Rory. Anything, no matter how awful, sounds good to her right now.
Rory rolls his shoulders in another lazy shrug. ? I never worried myself much about how worlds were made. The one I lived in has existed for millions of years they?ve traced evolution for a very long time. How it all started really is less important than how it?s going.? He puts his wand and hands in his pockets and regards Em. ?You know the way??
Emmeline nods. "I meant what happened that it ended up like this," she says, gesturing toward rotting wood. "Empty of its original inhabitants." As she speaks, she pushes open the door and waits for him to come through. "Yeah, I think I can remember. I found it the other day."
Rory scratches at his neck. ?Maybe they got brought here the same as we did and found a way out. No one?s found any corpses or graveyards or anything like that, just animals.? Emmeline hmms to herself. "That's odd, too. This place is very strange." After making that obvious announcement, the woman began leading the way.
Emmeline leaves.