The Turning Of the Stone: Graphite, Erasers, and Fine Dining

the—eleventh-doctor:

turningofthestone:

the—eleventh-doctor:

The Doctor rubbed his hands together.  “Uh, Time Lord, actually.  And humans do a pretty good job of passing off as Time Lords.  And that-“

He stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning on his face.  “Ahh, I see what you’ve been doing, you tricky clever things.  No wonder my sonic didn’t work.  Got a bit of a dampening flux going on, eh?  Maybe some memory suppression?” he said to the hidden controllers.

He turned to Silas.  “Yes, it’s a big blue box, a police box, to be precise.  And it’s very, very important.  You see, it’s my home, the only one I’ve got left, and I seem to have been separated from the old girl.  It’s a TARDIS, Time and Relative Dimension in Space.  A time and space machine.”

Silas folds his arms, looking rather gobsmacked, for lack of a better term. 

Memory suppression, dampening flux, and time and space machine. He barely knew what to think, but it seemed very interesting and worth finding more about.
“You made a time machine. Out of a Police Box? Holy crap.”
He shakes his head, with a concerned smile.
“That’s kind of freaking awesome.  I do hope you can get back to it, sounds amazing. …
That is if our lovely staff ever show up or let us off.”
He rubs his bullsized neck sheepishly. 
“Sorry if I sound random in my questions, it’s just a lot to take in. What’s a Time Lord, may I ask?” 

The Doctor looked at him, his eyes searching Silas’s face.  “Well, it seems like you’re a nice enough bloke.  Yeah, Time Lord.  I’m an alien.  Long way from home.  Long, long way from home.  Long time, too.”

All over the Doctor’s body, his skin tightened.  Memories of Gallifrey were fighting against the carefully-constructed dam he had built in his mind.  There wasn’t time for that now.  There was never enough time, it seemed.

He quickly smiled again.  “Gallifrey,” he said, his voice almost catching in his voice.  “I’m from Gallifrey.  Funny name, isn’t it?”

Silas’s brows furrow, steel grey eyes filled with sympathy. “Gallifrey.” Rolling the word around his tounge, smiling at the taller alien. “It sounds lovely.” 
He could tell that the man before him had a lot of secrets, and what looked to be a lot of regret. He could only hope that perhaps someday that burden would lift for his companion. 

The Turning Of the Stone: Graphite, Erasers, and Fine Dining

the—eleventh-doctor:

turningofthestone:

Silas folds his arms, looking rather gobsmacked, for lack of a better term. 

Memory suppression, dampening flux, and time and space machine. He barely knew what to think, but it seemed very interesting and worth finding more about.
“You made a time machine. Out of a Police Box? Holy crap.”
He shakes his head, with a concerned smile.
“That’s kind of freaking awesome.  I do hope you can get back to it, sounds amazing. …
That is if our lovely staff ever show up or let us off.”
He rubs his bullsized neck sheepishly. 
“Sorry if I sound random in my questions, it’s just a lot to take in. What’s a Time Lord, may I ask?” 

The Doctor looked at him, his eyes searching Silas’s face.  “Well, it seems like you’re a nice enough bloke.  Yeah, Time Lord.  I’m an alien.  Long way from home.  Long, long way from home.  Long time, too.”

All over the Doctor’s body, his skin tightened.  Memories of Gallifrey were fighting against the carefully-constructed dam he had built in his mind.  There wasn’t time for that now.  There was never enough time, it seemed.

He quickly smiled again.  “Gallifrey,” he said, his voice almost catching in his voice.  “I’m from Gallifrey.  Funny name, isn’t it?”

Silas’s brows furrow as he notes the man’s discomfort. Years of sculpting people had given him a fairly good eye for reading their emotions, and he felt a pang of guilt at bringing up what was obviously a tender point for the man across from him.
Breaking his own smile, Silas leans forward, aiming to try to clear the air between them.
"Haha yes! It sounds interesting, perhaps sometime you can tell me more about it! Say, why don’t we see what we can scrounge up from the counter over there, I’m starving!" 
He thumbs over at the serving tables and bar, moving to hop into his wheelchair as he does so.

=Apologies for the insanely late reply, school has been kicking my ass six ways over.= 

The Turning Of the Stone: Graphite, Erasers, and Fine Dining

the—eleventh-doctor:

The Doctor rubbed his hands together.  “Uh, Time Lord, actually.  And humans do a pretty good job of passing off as Time Lords.  And that-“

He stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning on his face.  “Ahh, I see what you’ve been doing, you tricky clever things.  No wonder my sonic didn’t work.  Got a bit of a dampening flux going on, eh?  Maybe some memory suppression?” he said to the hidden controllers.

He turned to Silas.  “Yes, it’s a big blue box, a police box, to be precise.  And it’s very, very important.  You see, it’s my home, the only one I’ve got left, and I seem to have been separated from the old girl.  It’s a TARDIS, Time and Relative Dimension in Space.  A time and space machine.”

Silas folds his arms, looking rather gobsmacked, for lack of a better term. 

Memory suppression, dampening flux, and time and space machine. He barely knew what to think, but it seemed very interesting and worth finding more about.
"You made a time machine. Out of a Police Box? Holy crap.”
He shakes his head, with a concerned smile.
"That’s kind of freaking awesome.  I do hope you can get back to it, sounds amazing. …
That is if our lovely staff ever show up or let us off.”
He rubs his bullsized neck sheepishly. 
"Sorry if I sound random in my questions, it’s just a lot to take in. What’s a Time Lord, may I ask?" 

The Turning Of the Stone: Graphite, Erasers, and Fine Dining

the—eleventh-doctor:

“Not exactly from Earth, you say?” the Doctor said.  “What’s he look like?  Green and prickly, like a cactus?  Or kind of lizard-like?  Ah, well, those are from Earth, just not human.  By the way, I’m not what you would say exactly human either.  But no matter, humans are my favorite, love humans.  Might as well be an honorary Earth-member as it is.”

The Doctor stopped and looked around, a smile wandering onto his face.  “Bigger on the inside, just like home.”

The smile disappeared.

“Come to think of it, where is home?  Haven’t seen a big blue box, by any chance, have you then?”

Silas gives a nod, then laughs as the Doctor rattles off possibilities. He liked the man’s quick wit, for certain.
"Haha, no, he’s human far as I can tell. Kind of short like me, brownish curly hair, brown eyes. Has some really interesting clothes! He says he comes from a place called Alyonar…"
He smiles at the Doctor’s affinity for humanity.
"Looks like we share something in common. I’m human myself, but I find humanity fascinating.” His eyes twinkle as he speaks, his enthusiasm readily apparent.
"Just, people in general are intriguing to me. That’s why I’m… kind of excited about this train, to be honest, so many new folks like yourself to meet!"
He cocks his head at the Doctor, suddenly curious.
"If I might ask, what are you exactly? If you aren’t human, you do a very good job of passing off as one! And ah- I. Haven’t seen any big blue boxes around the train, I’m sorry."
He looks worried, brow furrowing and frowning.
"Is there anything super important you need from it?" 

(sorry for delay was waylaid by sick <A>;;;) 

The Turning Of the Stone: Graphite, Erasers, and Fine Dining

the—eleventh-doctor:

The Doctor jumped down sprightly and looked into Silas’s eyes, his face mere inches away from the startled human’s.  “Silas, isn’t it?  Silas, good name, I think.  Good man to match the name, I hope.  Now.  You said something about the conductor.  Rather odd gentleman.  I say gentleman.  May not even be…human.”  The Doctor flipped the device into the air and caught it again.  He held it up between them.  “Screwdriver.  Sonic screwdriver.  Even though it’s not exactly a screwdriver.”

He straightened up and started pacing.  “And yes, I’m alright, although I’m not entirely sure that this train is.”  He held up his hands, as if trying to grab a hold of something, his face screwed up in intense concentration.  “There’s something not right about this train, and I don’t know what exactly’s the matter.  I fix things, but it’s hard to fix something if you don’t know what about it’s broken.  The train is…off.”

He stopped and turned to face Silas.  “I’m sorry.  I’m rambling, aren’t I.  Silas, don’t mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?”

 

Silas resists the urge to wheel backward as the man suddenly gets very inside his personal space. Christ, he really didn’t have much in the way of eyebrows did he?

Despite this, he does his best to follow the animated conversation.

“Ah, thanks… And yeah, I swear I saw his eyes turn red just as he bolted out of sight when I boarded.”

He watches with amusement as the Doctor flips up the sonic not-a-screwdriver.

“Haha, it looks really cool! So it’s like a scanner?”

He folds his thick arms as the doctor begins to pace, listening to the man’s musings with a cocked head and thoughtful expression.

“I will agree that the train’s not normal.. Hell, my roommate on the train’s not even from Earth, and I’m willing to bet a lot of others on here aren’t either. That’s not even talking about how fricking HUGE it is in here.”

He gives an encompassing guesture of the train.

“Seems way too good to be true. As for what I’m doing here, I was taking a trip home to New York from Colorado. Was finishing up a sabbatical for my sculpting to try to get some inspiration.”

He looks out the window at the wintry landscape, with a worried expression.

“Except I’m seriously doubting that we’re headed that direction.” 

The Turning Of the Stone: Graphite, Erasers, and Fine Dining: Open

the—eleventh-doctor:

turningofthestone:

Silas finishes a final flourish of the rapidly retreating mountain range, holding up the sketchbook to eyeball…

“Ah, yes, friends of mine!” the Doctor said, his eyes twinkling as he smiled.  “Components of a complex personality complex…hmm.  Eh, it’s complex…”

The rather muscular man smiled.  “I see-“

“Sorry,” the Doctor said, scratching the back of his head and settling into the proffered chair.  “Head is a bit mixed up.  Transportation of this sort isn’t really what I’m used to.  Usually fly around in a big…blue…box…”

The Doctor stopped, his eyes widening.  The color drained from his face.  “How could I have forgotten her?” he said, his voice barely a whisper.  He looked around, snapping out of his stupor for a moment.  “It’s this train, isn’t it?” he said, climbing up to stand on the chair and pointing a strange, buzzing device at the train’s ceiling.  “Perception filter perhaps?” he yelled at the invisible constructors and conductors of the train.  “What are you doing, mucking about in innocent people’s brains?”

He stopped.  “I say innocent…” he said, more to himself than to Silas.

Silas looks a little confused at the descriptions of the Doctor’s friends. So many C’s. He shakes his head lightly to clear it up a little, listening further with an intent, open expression.
He is about to ask about the big blue box when the Doctor suddenly goes white as a sheet.
"Uh. You alright, dude? You’re looking kinda-"
He is cut off by the tall gentleman suddenly launching himself up onto the chair, eyebrows shooting up into the messy curls. 

"Whoa, careful! What are you doing with that? Who are you talking about? … The hell is that, anyway?” This last question referring to the buzzing object in the Doctor’s hands.
He looks around, seeing if anyone would respond to the yelling.
"Not sure if they’ll answer, I haven’t seen anyone else onboard besides some of the other passengers and that wierdass conductor when he helped me get on…" He looks quite concerned now, craning his head back to look up at the man standing on the chair.
”..You alright?” 

The Turning Of the Stone: Graphite, Erasers, and Fine Dining: Open

the—eleventh-doctor:

turningofthestone:

Silas glides down the halls of the train, thankful for the width of the corridors and the ease by which he could wheel past other folks on the train. He adjusts the knapsack on his lap as he pulls open the compartment door to the dining room, marveling at the extravagance of the tables and the…

The Doctor’s fingers flits over the door to the dining room, his eyes roaming quickly over the wooden door.  “Would be wood,” he says, sliding the door open and entering the glistening dining room.

A rather muscular man is in the corner, sketching away.  Their eyes meet, and the Doctor smiles warmly.  “Hello!” he says, walking over to the man.  “Ah, drawing, wonderful.  Graphite, much quicker than paint.  Watching someone paint is like watching paint…dry.  Well then!  I’m the Doctor!”

He holds out his hand, his eyebrows, what there was of them, raised expectantly, his smile genuine, his hair bobbing.

Silas finishes a final flourish of the rapidly retreating mountain range, holding up the sketchbook to eyeball the finished drawing when the compartment door opens. His  own bushy eyebrows rise as he sees the tall and rather impeccably dressed man enter. Silas returns the warm smile with one of his own, a broad grin that set his steel grey eyes to twinkling.

"Ah, hi!"
He rises out of his wheelchair a bit, steadying himself with one hand on the table and taking the other man’s hand with a very firm grip. Nothing hurtful, but the strength in his hands becomes quite obvious with the shake.

"Haha, yes, graphite’s a great medium. Much easier to tote around than an easel and paint tubes too."
He settles back down in his chair with a welcoming guesture to the chair opposite the table. “The Doctor, eh? My name’s Silas Andreakos, it is good to meet you!”
He gives a friendly nod, brow furrowing for a moment as he recalled an earlier occurence. “I thought I overheard you as I was boarding the train, I wasn’t sure till now with all the commotion haha! So you’re a passenger as well?”

Graphite, Erasers, and Fine Dining: Open

Silas glides down the halls of the train, thankful for the width of the corridors and the ease by which he could wheel past other folks on the train. He adjusts the knapsack on his lap as he pulls open the compartment door to the dining room, marveling at the extravagance of the tables and the plates. He wondered where exactly the staff was, to date he had seen no one running affairs on the train, save for that…admittedly creepy conductor.

He moves to a table, seating himself by the window and unzipping his bag. With deft hands, he pulls out a large sketchbook, well used, but with plenty of pages left for drawing in, as well as a small kit of drawing supplies. Pens, pencils, tortillons, charcoal, erasers and more lined the inside, neat and orderly.

Silas picks out a comfortable pencil and begins to sketch, making small pictures of the constantly changing wintry landscape and humming a little tune, keeping an eye out for any other passengers who might come this way as he huddles in his cozy corner with a full view of the dining compartment.

Ember for heart: Antelogium

heartofember:

The other pointed to the door. “How about we both explore the train and meet back here tonight to swap stories of what’s here and who we met?”

Noriah had a similar idea just now. He’s heard people walking past their room, bits and pieces of animated conversations.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea. Oh and by the way…” Noriah quickly glanced down at Silas’ wheelchair. “It seems like you’re doing great on your own and I don’t want to be rude, but… Don’t hesitate to ask me if you’d need any help.”

Silas laughs and nods, patting the wheelchair. “Will keep that in mind, thanks. Also, don’t feel like you’re being offensive or nothing either if you talk about it. I’d have to talk with ya though if I thought things were getting a bit overly.. sympathetic, if you will, haha!”
He gives another friendly smile, making it fairly obvious he didn’t think it would be a huge problem between the two of them. 

Ember for heart: Antelogium

heartofember:

“Yes, Alyonar is my world…” As he spoke those words it suddenly felt so surreal to him as well. Not only he was far away from his own home during his travels, but now he’s been far away from his… universe even. It was unbelievable. It sounded like a bard’s story or a dream. Noriah rubbed his eyes as if trying to wake himself up, but they were both still on the train when he opened his eyes again. For a second he thought he was crazy.

“Christ, and I’m getting the feeling we’re not in either place anymore.”

But then his roommmate seemed as concerned as Noriah himself… So maybe… Maybe all of this was really happening.

“Never heard of Alyonar or Nivlan, but I’d love to hear about it when we both have the time and are all settled in….”

Noriah smiled. “Alyonar is a whole big world, like I mentioned… And Nivlan is the country where I’ve been born. I’d love to tell you more about it, as long as you tell me about your Earth too!”

Silas listens as Noriah explains the difference between Alyonar and Nivlan. He smiles, a toothy grin that seems to split his face in two as he leans back up.
"I’m looking forward to it, your world sounds pretty cool if the name’s any indication! And yeah, I’ll be glad to tell ya about Earth! But first."
He thumbs to the train door.
"How about we both explore the train and meet back here tonight to swap stories of what’s here and who we met?"
He looks genuinely excited at the prospect of meeting new people, the worry that they weren’t exactly home anymore stored away for the moment.

Ember for heart: Antelogium

heartofember:

“En…glish… you say. Hmm…” Squinting and frowning a bit he locked his gaze outside the window, his eye caught by the rushing landscape. “I guess that’s how it called here.” Noriah shrugged, slightly puzzled, but he concluded he’ll have a lot of time to learn more about the worlds the other passengers came from.

Because, well, that’s how it felt. Like a different world.

Listening to his companion he caught himself kneading the soft mattress with his hand. It’s not like he did it on purpose, it was just his little habit to gesture a lot in various ways. And the bedsheets were so pleasant to touch…

Noriah still paid mind to the other’s words. Silas mentioned many names he didn’t know. At some point Noriah was handed a small card, with some info and a portrait of his roommate, looking stunningly realistic. Noriah examined it carefully, glancing quickly back and forth at the owner of the card and the item itself. Perhaps there will be a lot to discover. He returned the card as the question woke him up from the quiet amazement.

“May I ask in kind how you got here and where you’re from?”

“To be honest it happened quite suddenly…” He started slowly, reminiscing the events that led him here. “I’ve been chased by a group of thieves that ambushed me on the road leading through the forest… I tried to find some place to hide and noticed a building, a mansion in ruin, perhaps abandoned… So I ran to hide there and the moment I closed the door and turned to see my surroundings I found myself next to the train…” He looked up at Silas again, not expecting the other to believe him, but Noriah wasn’t lying. “I was born in the Eastern Continent, in Nivlan, where I spent my childhood, later I journeyed with my friends and later alone all around Alyonar.” He was almost sure it meant as much to Silas as “Greece” and “Colorado” and other terms meant to him. But well. He asked.

Silas listens intently, a thoughtful expression in his eyes as he steeples his fingers under his clefted chin with a slight smirk as Nor does the double take of the photo. He doesn’t show signs of disbelief, but rather a slow realization. “So… you aren’t from Earth, then? Another world?” He never thought he’d have the occasion to seriously ask that, but then, this train seemed a little too out of the ordinary to him, more so the more he looked and listened.
He sighs, blowing a curly strand of hair out of his eyes. “Christ, and I’m getting the feeling we’re not in either place anymore.” He scratches his head, forearm muscles working furiously. Looking up at Nor, he smiles, albeit looking a bit worried.
"Never heard of Alyonar or Nivlan, but I’d love to hear about it when we both have the time and are all settled in…."

Ember for heart: Antelogium

heartofember:

He shook the other’s hand, not really surprised by the strength of the other’s grip. Watching the other man moving around with such ease and energy considering his condition was truly admirable and impressing.


“Yes, Noriah, you pronounced right~” He let himself step off the more formal manner of speech, as he was addressed this way by his roommate, which didn’t bother him at all. “I hope I didn’t mispronounce anything either, they’ve written our names funny. Well, mine at least!”

He sat at his own bed, which turned out to be very comfortable, tempting to lie down and curl in the soft bedsheets for the rest of the day. But it was way to early to do that. Also, Noriah remembered the train having more than just this one car, thus he got an idea of exploring it further.

“It sure is quite luxurious, much better than what I’m used to in general.”

He didn’t understand everything the man said, but he was sure he’d get used to it in no time. The way Silas was dressed, his speech and especially his equipment looked nothing like Noriah has seen at home, which struck him odd at first, but then he thought that he must look just as odd to the other in his usual attire.

“If you don’t mind me asking… How did you get here? And where from?”

"No, you got it right! And yeah, it looks like they went ahead and translated people’s names to English for the labels."
Silas rolls over to a decent conversational distance, folding his arms as he listens, an interested expression on his face as he takes in the accent, the clothes, and the overall mannerisms of his roommate. It was fairly obvious he was a foreigner, something that rather excited him. Perhaps they could swap stories sometime on their trip.
Upon being asked the questions, Silas furrows his thick brows and looks upward, steel grey eyes clouding with thought as he chews his lip in concentration.
"Well, I remember I was getting a train ticket from Colorado back home to New York, had just finished up a little sabbatical for my projects. The ticket seller gave me the ticket and passport, didn’t say much else other than to wait for the train. United States railways are still kind of wierd to me." He fishes out his passport to show Nor, photo showcasing his broad (if a little perplexed looking) smile.
"To be honest I’m a little hazy on specifics.." He frowns. "The conductor wasn’t much help either, he just up and disappeared. Kind of creepy too."
He shakes his head and smiles once more, looking back up at Noriah.
"As to where I’m from, I was born in Greece, moved to the US to get some artistic inspiration. May I ask in kind how you got here and where you’re from?" 

Ember for heart: Antelogium

heartofember:

turningofthestone:

It had been quite the fruitful trip, this little venture. Having taken time off from the studio, he had gone out west to get some inspiration and perhaps a few found objects to incorporate into some of his latest sculptures. He leafed through the sketchbook filled with notes and drawings of various places and musings of the mind. There were more where that came from stuffed into his backpack, besides the laptop and tablet.

He boards the train, with a little help from the conductor in getting his wheelchair on, and stares openmouthed at the opulence and size difference inside. He turns to the conductor.

” Um….should I be paying more for thi-“ 

The doors lock shut behind him, the brief sight of the red glowing eyes causeing his thick eyebrows to shoot up into his curly brown hair. …perhaps he was just in sore need of sleep and seeing things. He swivels around in his wheelchair, strong hands guiding the wheels as he slowly makes his way down the hall, noting the room number on his passport stub. 

“1-F…” He briefly hears a conversation between a man named Rick and another enthusiastic doctor as he makes his way down, he’d have to meet them once he got settled in.

As he rolls down the hall, noting the room numbers, he spies a short man walking into the room. Perhaps a roommate? He slows as he reads the plaque, rubbing his prodigious chin.

“They even named the rooms for us? I feel spoiled.” He says wryly. He peeks around the door, steel grey eyes filled with curiosity at the new fellow, a broad smile causing dimples on his cheeks.

“Hello there! You rooming here too?”

The room was empty, perhaps the other passenger didn’t arrive yet. Noriah slid the door shut behind him and stepped farther inside. Most of the furniture was made of dark, red-tinted wood polished to a slight gloss, decorated with elaborate ornaments. Unlike the corridor’s walls, here they had more neutral colour of a creamy, warm grey, and the carpet covering the whole floor showed an intricate damask pattern of dark green, burgundy and golden ochre, the colours repeating in the elements like cushions, bed sheets and curtains. On the ceiling there were few small, flat, round lamps. All metal elements shining with a warm, golden hue. The two big beds had some luggage area overhead in a form of dressers, and small nightstands at their heads, a lamp on each. The beds had no posts, and the dressers were fixed to the ceiling itself, which left plenty of room on the wall for three big windows. There was also a small table standing by the same wall as the entrance door, two chairs with low backrests hidden underneath. On the left wall there was another door.

Noriah went to check. He slid them to the side and found a small, but well equipped bathroom, its colour scheme restricted to warm, dark green, creamy grey and gold, similar to those from the previous chamber. All finished in ceramic tiles and metal. A shower to the right, a hand basin with a medium sized mirror fixed right above it, and a toilet, both in front of him. In the left corner on the same wall as the door, a bathrobe hanger has been fixed. Along the right wall a long metal bar has been installed, like some sort of a handle.

He returned to the previous room and checked the dressers. He didn’t recognize his luggage in the one right next to the bathroom door, so he moved to the bed by the entrance. Finally! He found his clothes neatly folded and put in one of them, the rest of belongings sorted and put in the second. The third one empty for further usage.
The whole luxurious compartment was very well organised and seemed very cozy. It made Noriah feel a little bit better about the situation he found himself in.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad…”

As the thought crossed his mind, he heard the door open again. He turned to see a man on a wheelchair, but he didn’t concentrate on it for long, as he noticed the other’s bright, friendly smile.

“Hello there! You rooming here too?”

Noriah couldn’t help but smile himself in response. The man had a built of a warrior, except his legs looked much weaker. He assumed it must be why he uses a wheelchair.

“Hello! It appears so. You must be Sir Andreakos I believe?” He said as the other rolled inside and closed the door. Noriah held out his hand in a welcoming gesture. “I’m Noriah Dacre-Lal, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Silas rolls forward, smile deepening as he nods and takes the other’s hand in a very firm handshake, callused palms and fingers giving hint to the amount of work and toil they had seen, as well as the strength the man had. Despite barely coming up to Noriah’s chest in his seating position, he seemed to radiate an easy amicable confidence that made it easy to forget the man was in a wheelchair at all.
"That I am yes! Noriah, eh? Will try to make sure I pronounce that right, haha! It’s good to meet you too, and…..wow this room’s snazzy."
He does a brief 360, taking in the ambience of the room with an eager satisfaction, particularly happy to see that there were ample accomodations for a person with his particular brand of challenges.
Rolling over to the other bed, he tests the drawers, looking briefly perplexed as he sees all his clothes neatly ordered, unslinging his backpack off his notably broad shoulders and setting it to the side carefully.
Turning to Noriah, he shakes his head in amazement.
"They REALLY pulled out all the stops in customer satisfaction, I’m surprised Travelocity didn’t pick up on this place, it’s a fricking steal.” 

Via Infinitum Passport

Character Name: Silas Andreakos

Original Character?: Yes

Series if applicable: N/A

 Personality:http://turningofthestone.tumblr.com/personality


Biography: http://turningofthestone.tumblr.com/Biography

Silas in color.

Silas in color.