[Bollocks, this was not what she'd planned on. Helena had been onto something, she'd been too absorbed in trying to figure it out and lost track of time. And now, well, she was locked out. She burrowed down beside one of the buildings and pulled out the tablet.]
Have to say, this is not how I planned things to go. Suppose it serves me right for being far too involved in trying to find something. Curiosity was bound to be my downfall sooner or later, it seems.
[Humor was always a good defense mechanism.]
Never thought this would be the way I'd go, though. It's rather lackluster for H.G. Wells to die of bloody hypothermia, wouldn't you agree?
FOUR
Helena's eyes opened and she found herself in a strange place. Well, at least until she turned her head and then it became obvious where she was. It was a morgue. Which meant...had she died? That was the logical conclusion given the fact she was lying on a table. Sitting up, she tried to get her bearings, but she couldn't grasp much. She really didn't know where she was or how she got here. But she must have been here before considering she'd just woken up here, right?
That's when she noticed the tablet with its insistent message. Frowning, Helena picked it up and looked at it. Well, she wasn't one that ignored such insistent warnings to get out of a place, so she quickly found her way out of the morgue.
Wherever this place was, once she was outside, she noticed the snow, and the feeling that the place had been abandoned. Creepy was a word that only began to cover it. Helena gaped a bit at her surroundings, having no recollection whatsoever of the town. Which was odd, right? Clearly she'd remember a place like this. She may be far older than she looked, but Helena had a damn good memory, and this place wasn't in any of her memories.
That's when she spotted another person. Oh good, someone she could talk to and figure out where she was.
H.G. Wells | Warehouse 13
[Bollocks, this was not what she'd planned on. Helena had been onto something, she'd been too absorbed in trying to figure it out and lost track of time. And now, well, she was locked out. She burrowed down beside one of the buildings and pulled out the tablet.]
Have to say, this is not how I planned things to go. Suppose it serves me right for being far too involved in trying to find something. Curiosity was bound to be my downfall sooner or later, it seems.
[Humor was always a good defense mechanism.]
Never thought this would be the way I'd go, though. It's rather lackluster for H.G. Wells to die of bloody hypothermia, wouldn't you agree?
FOUR
Helena's eyes opened and she found herself in a strange place. Well, at least until she turned her head and then it became obvious where she was. It was a morgue. Which meant...had she died? That was the logical conclusion given the fact she was lying on a table. Sitting up, she tried to get her bearings, but she couldn't grasp much. She really didn't know where she was or how she got here. But she must have been here before considering she'd just woken up here, right?
That's when she noticed the tablet with its insistent message. Frowning, Helena picked it up and looked at it. Well, she wasn't one that ignored such insistent warnings to get out of a place, so she quickly found her way out of the morgue.
Wherever this place was, once she was outside, she noticed the snow, and the feeling that the place had been abandoned. Creepy was a word that only began to cover it. Helena gaped a bit at her surroundings, having no recollection whatsoever of the town. Which was odd, right? Clearly she'd remember a place like this. She may be far older than she looked, but Helena had a damn good memory, and this place wasn't in any of her memories.
That's when she spotted another person. Oh good, someone she could talk to and figure out where she was.
"Excuse me, might I ask you something?"