A Merged Timeline

Markus - We're not in ND anymore, Toto

Markus, Markinson, Mark, Blondie, whatever you wanna call me. It's me. The man. The one. Probably not the only. Yep. Mhm. It's me. Yup. Yeah. Unfortunately so. Yeah.

Anyways, I'm lost. I'm not gonna make a dad joke there, either, this isn't a good thing. At all. I've been separated from my kids (again), and now my wife, which is awful. It's worse than awful. I'm panicking, really, and I don't like to panic, because I don't like feeling powerless, and I don't like feeling lonely, and that's just making this all significantly worse and I feel like I'm going to die here.

Moving on.

I don't actually know where "here" is, but it sure isn't there, nor where, nor fair, nor should I be here nor there nor where nor fair. I should be back with my family in a place I recognize. But, nah, I'm not. I'm in some kind of weird city, and this clearly isn't mine. It's bigger, it's much more polluted, from the looks of it, and nobody seems to have any sense of direction. Granted, I'm used to that, but here, absolutely everyone looks like they're lost, and also that they want to shoot you. They probably would, too, but I don't think a guy who looks like
me would be worth wasting a bullet on.

So, anyway, I started walking. I figured I might as well get some point of contact or location, since being lost in a city like this would absolutely mean death, which, in my opinion, is not a very good thing. (Since it probably kinda hurts.)

I could have sworn I walked for an hour and a half, and I hadn't gotten anywhere. I almost got hit by a car, and I almost got mugged, but everything looked the same. Sure, the people changed, and the sky got darker, but the buildings stayed: towering, dark, pillars of lights. Unlike home, though these..weren't pretty. They were cramped, they were shut in, and, frankly, the city just seemed boring. Not in, like, a dull way, but weirdly saddening. Like you could easily get trapped here. Forever.

Luckily, though, before I could get too far into that spiral, I was met with a wonderful surprise: I walked into a door. I think it had just opened, because I probably would have seen it there..or, maybe not. Either way, it hurt a bit, and got me scolded at by the person trying to walk in. And you know what? After what felt like a few seconds, I followed them in.

I didn't know where this was, but I had nothing better to do. I rubbed my temple, and glanced up at the place...and immediately backed up. Not out, but up against the wall. This place wasn't kidding. It looked like a pub slash bar slash disco, and it didn't blend together well. People filled the place, from the looks of it, most booths and seats being filled, along with a disco floor in the distance..at least, what I could make out of it. Oh, and it was loud, too. I heard a bunch of people arguing, glasses shattering, music blasting, and it was really a lot to take in. Frankly, I wish I hadn't walked in.

I kept walking in.

I deactivated my gear, just so it wasn't glowing purple, and rolled my sleeves back up. I was only wearing my gloves, really, but it was still probably a good idea to avoid any unwanted attention, especially in a place like this. I walked over to an empty booth, just because I could, and because it was probably the best choice for more to stay away from anyone.

Unfortunately, I was wrong. That isn't uncommon, but it's still sorta annoying. Some rando, who I'd assume was drunk by the way he walked and looked, stumbled over and fell into the seat across from mine. I winced a little, mostly out of secondhand embarrassment, and leaned over to look at him.

He was a taller man, and definitely much burlier than I am. I'm athletic, yeah, but this guy looked more like some bodybuilder if he weren't so broad and..not drunk. If he were sober and standing, I'd be terrified, probably. Right now, though, I wasn't. Plus, he was ginger, so I really didn't care to be afraid. That was until he sat up, obviously. He spoke slowly, but obviously hazily and sickly.

"Eh..what're you lookin' for now? Couldn' ya' beat it, kid? This's my seat 'ere." He mumbled, but wasn't looking at me. Luckily. I eventually responded.

"Nah, I think I'm good. Now, are you Scottish, or just drunk?"

"How'd you feel if I punched you in the mouth, eh? And what if it was both?" He shot back, though I think I got my answer.

"..Cool. So, mind answering a few of my questions?" I tried acting polite and all, but I didn't wait for him to speak again. "Where is this? And why're you here? And what's updog?"

He glared at me for a few long, weird seconds, but eventually exhaled. He seemed to be a bit less annoyed, luckily, and responded. "Ehm..a bar, somewhere in London...n' I'm here to escape, and crap.." He hiccuped, and didn't bother answering my last question.

So, this is London..great. I haven't ever been to the UK before this, and obviously, this isn't what my London would look like. I hesitated, but decided to ask another question, just to get a grasp of understanding. "So..who're you?"

He seemed to consider it for a while, whether that's because he was dazed, or because he didn't know..well, I didn't know, either. He obviously had zoned out, so I (politely) snapped at him a few times. I don't usually do that, so don't worry about me being a bad person. He flinched a bit, and shook his head, coming back to his senses.

"Ehm...just Maxwell Fraser."