Dreamscape, Sunday Afternoon Fandom Time

[withoutverona]

"What are you doing here?"

Romeo would have been faster to answer the question if he'd known where here was. It was a bedroom, and one that was no doubt lovely when it wasn't in a shambles. But it was in a shambles now -- bedclothes tossed everywhere, strawberries spilling from an overturned table, debris and glass on the floor. He turned away

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[answer2bheard]

Jim had found his way out to the rocky beaches of this new corner of whatever it was that he and Romeo had found themselves in, and was smiling out almost wistfully at the waves

[withoutverona]

Romeo jogged up to Jim, a bit breathless and still with that bottle of champagne in one hand.

"There are other people here," he said, almost triumphant about it. "Ones who can speak -- though they seem to speak in poetry and nonsense."

[answer2bheard]

"I'll take poetry and nonsense, just so long as they're not shooting at us," Jim decided, turning and grinning at Romeo. "I mean, this whole place is kind of like that anyhow, right? These buildings are unreal."

There was a pause, and then he blinked at the bottle in Romeo's hand.

"A peace offering from the poets?"

[withoutverona]

"In a way," Romeo said, shrugging. "The poets seemed not to be at peace, and the room they were in was in an upheaval. The bottle was liberated as a survivor."

It was a good vintage; this justified theft.

"And I see what you mean," he added softly, staring hard at the crumbling buildings. "What people would build a place like this and leave it to rot? It is beyond my imagination."