Non-Canon Lost in London

[York]

Simon practically tumbled inside, closing the door tightly behind him as he came down with a coughing fit... Shaking off the effects of the fog slowly but surely.

Eventually, his mind cleared, as he groaned, turning on the light on his phone as he clutched his switchblade tightly, peering at the displays with a moderate amount of interest.

However, he began to feel more and more cautious as he noticed the repeating, crashing sounds... Like someone was hitting, or perhaps smashing ceramics and clay.

His hands shook a little, but he pressed forwards, carefully inching towards the noise as his eyes searched his surroundings for anything useful. Perhaps a gas mask, or at least something to help keep the fog at bay.

While he wanted to stay indoors, he had a feeling he wasn't alone here... And if push came to shove, he might have to flee into the fog once again...

@Crow

 

[Crow]

The sounds get louder as Simon nears the area.

A familiar voice - a voice that he once heard in a very memorable nightmare - begins to speak, albeit filtered by crashing of wares.

"Give it back... give it back..."

If he came closer, he would be able to identify the fallen ceramics...

@York

 

[York]

And it was then that Simon remembered the dream... Or more accurately, that nightmare he had once before... It was different than all the others that had once come before. He wasn't sure if he was undergoing some kind of relapse, or something else was at play... But he distinctly recognized that voice.

Jack... A young little girl with a... Eccentric mindset. Then again, who was he to talk?

The last conversation he remembered partaking in with her involved didn't exactly calm his nerves, but there were bits and pieces he was forgetting about that nightmare. Thinking back to the newspapers he had found in that house from earlier, he had to wonder... Were the two connected?

Eyeing the ceramics, he gripped his knife tightly... Swallowing a little before he risked calling out, praying he wouldn't regret his decision.

"... Jack... ... Is that you?" He said, steadying his grip on his knife just incase.

He regretted wasting his ammunition on whatever those creatures that attacked him were, but at the very least... He wasn't completely defenseless. It was just like when he had woken up in that alleyway in that first series of dreams he had... ... But, if the source of that voice turned out to be hostile, even if it was Jack, he wasn't so sure she would be as easy to contend with in a battle as say... A crazed, twitchy monster with a hammer.

@Crow