#1 [[Accidental voice]]

[rialta_fianaise]

Um... okay? This is new. Someone slip me something?

[He blinks and raps lightly on a tree trunk]

It feels real. Not that that proves anything, but y'know... It's a start.

So, what do we know, Pat? We know this isn't the Bogside, for a start, unless I've done a Rip Van Winkle or something. Isn't Derry at all, by the looks of it. [He frowns] 'S more

Comments

[frigginsterling]

[To the tune of the Liberty Bell]

Dadumdumdiddleydahdedah, dadumdeediddleydah, dadumdumdiddleydahdedah, dadumdeediddleydah...

[rialta_fianaise]

[He blinks for a moment, then bursts out laughing]

Wow, a crow of many talents. It can sing and it knows the Pythons when it sees them!

[frigginsterling]

Caw friggin' caw.

Nah, I'm Woody, mate. The crow's just like, erm, a phone or summat. Look into the eye, look into the eye, deep into the eye.

[If Padraic does as he's told, he will see a very skinny suedehead grinning all over his face and sticking his middle finger up at him]

Plus I would be very disappointed to meet a talking crow who didn't know the Pythons.

[rialta_fianaise]

Hey, hey. Don't tell me you don't remember when only real squares watched the Flying Circus! What if it was one of those just-too-cool crows? Or a pensioner crow who was shocked by the crudeness of the humour? Or what if it was too busy wanting to be a lumberjack?

And speaking of crude, mate... [He folds his arms, giving Woody a disapproving look and shaking his head slowly] Tsk, tsk. Such insolence! Are all the English this frightfully rude? I say! [He snorts, then goes back to his usual Derry accent]

It's a talking-cyclops-stalker crow, then? Bloody brilliant. I'm stuck in a trashy sci-fi novella.
...Apparently one set in a sixteenth-century forest. Didn't know places like this still existed!

On which subject, where is this, and how did I get here - and why didn't I wait up to meet Jack?

Oh, I'm Padraic, by the way. Padraic Pearson. Nice ta meetcha, Woody.