(Untitled)

[silver_maxwell]

Who: Max Carrigan
Where: The sidewalk in front of the nightclub
Time of Day: Mid-morning
Post Summary: Max wakes up somewhere that is definitely not his bedroom, pondering his sobriety.

Comments

[hungarianheart]

After a few weeks of unexciting events (asides from the ever present matter of the flickering power), Florence had become rather complacent about life here. Finding a strange man on the sidewalk served as a reminder of just how strange this place was.

"Your guess is as good as mine," she said wryly, offering him a small smile. "Just woke up here, I take it?"

[silver_maxwell]

"Uh, yeah," Max replied, frowning a little. "What the hell happened to New York? And Jude?" He shot another half-hearted glare at the street sign and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"'Cause this doesn't look anything like the Village."

[hungarianheart]

"I wish I could tell you," Florence answered sympathetically, knowing how much of a shock this was to him and hating that there was very little comfort she could offer. "All I can say is that we're stuck in this strange city with no idea how or why it happened."

[silver_maxwell]

"This is fuckin' weird." Max shook his head, then glanced around a bit and sighed.

"'We'? So how many people are there around here?"