First Person: [Action/Very brief video] [The train stops in the station, just as the captors have scheduled it. Steam heats the tracks as the wheels roll to a halt, and as the doors open, another arrival is expected, but none comes forth. The train stays, dubtifully, waiting for its passenger to hop off.
And eventually the passenger will crawl out from under the train, and the first thing anyone nearby will see is a shock of red, followed by more red. His pant legs from the shins down are still kind of the off-white cream color of the conductor's uniform he wears, but they're still speckled with red here and there. He stands fully and looks around at this new place - somewhere that Claire has never been before. He tosses the disembodied arm in his hand to the ground and steps forward a bit. He speaks, in a thick Brooklyn accent.]
...hey, wasn't it dark outside justa second ago?
[Because this is the most important thing, obviously. He pulls his watch out of his pocket to check the time, only to be astounded once more - it seemed that his watch had turned into some technologically advanced hoo-dad that he would have no idea how to use. He decided to keep it anyway, and puts it back in his pocket. Citizens will have caught a glimpse of his red-covered self, reddish brown eyes and wild red hair beneath all that gore, and any with a sensitive nose nearby will pick up the scent of quickly coagulating blood.
Vino is in town.]
Third Person: It was a new place, a new city, sure. Claire was good enough for this place, wasn't he? After all, he'd arrived here by train. This was going to be something new and exciting; a home away from home. He could do whatever he wanted, just like back home. That wasn't so bad. Maybe this place was part of his mind, too. Maybe a new part he hadn't discovered yet.
Also, he could have died and just woken up.
The real world, then, huh?
...no. He didn't remember dying. And he's pretty sure he would have remembered. He wasn't sure if the real world was supposed to be more glorious or more broken down than his world back home, but this one didn't even look all that big. This world was full of people who seemed a bit more gifted and talented than himself. And so long as they stayed good people, he might get along with quite a few of them. These captors that everyone was talking about seemed like a whole different story. They who 'owned' this world, who caused people so much harm because they could...
Well, Claire hadn't really seen it for himself, so he wouldn't bother with it for now. It was time for him to get to know the place and the people, not worry about some high-powered yahoos who he's almost positive Ladd Russo would get his rocks of with pretty quickly. Or perhaps not; he seemed like the kinda fella who was fired up for a good slaying all-day-every-day, while these people supposedly took breaks. Well, good for them, being unpredictable.
Claire wiped the back of his bloody hand over his equally bloody forehead, smearing the drying substance with sweat from the heat of the day. He'd been here about twenty minutes, it was time to go find a place to live and get cleaned up.
{[Canon] Claire Stanfield || Baccano! || No Reserve || 2 of 2 } ]
[The train stops in the station, just as the captors have scheduled it. Steam heats the tracks as the wheels roll to a halt, and as the doors open, another arrival is expected, but none comes forth. The train stays, dubtifully, waiting for its passenger to hop off.
And eventually the passenger will crawl out from under the train, and the first thing anyone nearby will see is a shock of red, followed by more red. His pant legs from the shins down are still kind of the off-white cream color of the conductor's uniform he wears, but they're still speckled with red here and there. He stands fully and looks around at this new place - somewhere that Claire has never been before. He tosses the disembodied arm in his hand to the ground and steps forward a bit. He speaks, in a thick Brooklyn accent.]
...hey, wasn't it dark outside justa second ago?
[Because this is the most important thing, obviously. He pulls his watch out of his pocket to check the time, only to be astounded once more - it seemed that his watch had turned into some technologically advanced hoo-dad that he would have no idea how to use. He decided to keep it anyway, and puts it back in his pocket. Citizens will have caught a glimpse of his red-covered self, reddish brown eyes and wild red hair beneath all that gore, and any with a sensitive nose nearby will pick up the scent of quickly coagulating blood.
Vino is in town.]
Third Person: It was a new place, a new city, sure.
Claire was good enough for this place, wasn't he? After all, he'd arrived here by train. This was going to be something new and exciting; a home away from home. He could do whatever he wanted, just like back home. That wasn't so bad. Maybe this place was part of his mind, too. Maybe a new part he hadn't discovered yet.
Also, he could have died and just woken up.
The real world, then, huh?
...no. He didn't remember dying. And he's pretty sure he would have remembered. He wasn't sure if the real world was supposed to be more glorious or more broken down than his world back home, but this one didn't even look all that big. This world was full of people who seemed a bit more gifted and talented than himself. And so long as they stayed good people, he might get along with quite a few of them. These captors that everyone was talking about seemed like a whole different story. They who 'owned' this world, who caused people so much harm because they could...
Well, Claire hadn't really seen it for himself, so he wouldn't bother with it for now. It was time for him to get to know the place and the people, not worry about some high-powered yahoos who he's almost positive Ladd Russo would get his rocks of with pretty quickly. Or perhaps not; he seemed like the kinda fella who was fired up for a good slaying all-day-every-day, while these people supposedly took breaks. Well, good for them, being unpredictable.
Claire wiped the back of his bloody hand over his equally bloody forehead, smearing the drying substance with sweat from the heat of the day. He'd been here about twenty minutes, it was time to go find a place to live and get cleaned up.