Doc is much more casual with the way he leans back slightly away from her, canting his head towards the bar, looking around the Grey Gull as he props one elbow against the countertop, fingers entwined with his other arm hanging loose, other elbow tucked in against his side.
"This place is called the Grey Gull. It was some kind of restaurant-bar before whatever rapture happened here." He clears his throat, disguising the way the emotions welled up in his voice with the way he seems to focus on what she was asking him, imparting to her what pearls of wisdom he had gone on ahead and collected ahead of her like a pez dispenser. "We are in a town called Mathias. Somewhere, somewhen in New England, is the theory. The food here and in the General Store replenishes by themselves somehow, along with whatever you might find in the fridges in the houses. That's- not the strangest thing about this place. The whiskey does not, though, so you might want to ration that." He gestures with a nod to her drink.
"The fog has killed people. As have monsters we cannot see. If you don't follow some cryptic instructions over the telephone or written on little pieces of paper you are probably going to die. It definitely feels like magic. But I don't think it is after you, or me, or anyone in particular. It's just--..." Doc's jaw shifts from side to side and he breathes out an inaudible sigh. "Toying with us."
no subject
Or she could do that.
Doc is much more casual with the way he leans back slightly away from her, canting his head towards the bar, looking around the Grey Gull as he props one elbow against the countertop, fingers entwined with his other arm hanging loose, other elbow tucked in against his side.
"This place is called the Grey Gull. It was some kind of restaurant-bar before whatever rapture happened here." He clears his throat, disguising the way the emotions welled up in his voice with the way he seems to focus on what she was asking him, imparting to her what pearls of wisdom he had gone on ahead and collected ahead of her like a pez dispenser. "We are in a town called Mathias. Somewhere, somewhen in New England, is the theory. The food here and in the General Store replenishes by themselves somehow, along with whatever you might find in the fridges in the houses. That's- not the strangest thing about this place. The whiskey does not, though, so you might want to ration that." He gestures with a nod to her drink.
"The fog has killed people. As have monsters we cannot see. If you don't follow some cryptic instructions over the telephone or written on little pieces of paper you are probably going to die. It definitely feels like magic. But I don't think it is after you, or me, or anyone in particular. It's just--..." Doc's jaw shifts from side to side and he breathes out an inaudible sigh. "Toying with us."