Our True Selves

Click Here for XP!!!

Brief Title:

Sandman and Topaz

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
04/08/13 09:20

Voodoo Lounge - Greenwich Village

An alternate reality Sandman visits Topaz and reveals the true Sandman.

Social or Plot:


Monday morning has come. With it a new week and for some people, a new life. A week has past since the ‘death’ of Sandman, which makes what is about to happen even stranger. A humanoid body made completely of sand bearing a strong resemblance to William Baker. The sand form shifts to appear like skin, but a pale almost albino like man. His clothing reminiscent of someone from the 1600s. Marko enters the voodoo lounge, appearing out of place and confused.

While the lounge maybe techincally closed, the door is usually kept unlocked if Topaz is up and about. And currently Topaz is up, probably hasn't even tried to sleep yet. It was a rowdy night, and she is just finishing up cleaning. With the staff long gone she is cheating to get it done. Glasses fly through the air going from sink to cabinet as she leans against the bar flipping through a magizine with one hand as the other one moves around to orchestrate the flight of the glasses. It all stops when the door opens and closes and the familiar looking man comes into view, the few glasses in the air come crashing to the ground in her shock.

“What ho, barwench. I seek imbibement.” Marko makes his way forward. The albino pssamic man walks in an almost un-human manner. He peers about. “This edifice appears unlike any I have seen before. It has the makings and markings of witchcraft. If this be such an establishment, I have my own ways of dealing with the unholy arcane antics. Use no enchantments on me.”

Despite being warned that people's alternates are popping up at seeming random, Topaz wasn't quite prepared for this. Even the sound of breaking glass isn't enough to stop her staring, though being called a barwench and the archaic turn of phrase being spouted at her is. "You do not know me?" she asks, her tones sounding a bit forced.

“Aye, wench. Though to be frank, I was somewhat drawn here. Perhaps it be one of your enchantments, if you truly be a witch.” Marko looks her over. His eyes almost appearing dead as he stares at her almost through her. “I sense as though I should know you. And while the trapping of this place appear unfamiliar and foreboding. I sense no true danger from you. Who are you, miss? Clearly you are from the Indian subcontinent. Be you one of those slaves of the owner or have I somehow been drawn to the subcontinent?”

"It was none of my doing that brought you here." Topaz stands steady under his gaze, careful not to project her own feelings of confusion and distress, as he seems to be dealing with some of the former due to his sudden change of venue "You do not, but another one like yourself does. But sadly he is no longer with us and you are far from home." she grabs a glass from under the counter and fills it from one of the taps "But you are not in India and I am not a slave. I am Topaz, owner of this establishment." she sets the full mug on the bar.

“Indeed? Owner of this establishment? Then I am no longer in England. I am either on the new world or one of the other colonies. Intriguing. I have encountered many beings in my time, but not one quite as. . .exotic. . .as you.” He makes his way towards a stole in the bad and has a seat. Trail of miniscule grains of sand follow him. “I seek an imbibement fit for one as powerful as myself.” Marko eyes the place, “Where be I currently and There is another like me?”

"The new world, city of Manhattan, year of our lord 2013." Topaz answers her tone still seemingly forced as if she is trying to talk past a lump in her throat "You are a very long way from home." she pushes the mug of what is either a dark ale or perhaps a stout closer to him with a fingertip, "It's the strongest I have on tap." she clears her throat, "There was another similar to you."

“Year of our lord 2013? That cannot be. This must be some sort of mysticism at play here. I am from the year of our lord 1602.” Marko frowns, “I’ll have your darkest ale, wench. . .” He looks up at Topaz and notes the clearing of her throat. “I must admit there is a haze or fog at play in my mind, mistress. I have memories of such wonders and people that I have not encountered before. You are one of those people. Yes through the haze and muck in my mind. I am drawn here and to you. Speak to me of the one who was similar to me and why I feel drawn to you for that?”

Grapping a broom, Topaz begins to sweep up the broken glass from behind the bar. This gives her a few moments of time to gather her thoughts "I am not knowledgable in the local history, but you may know this place better as New Amsterdam. I think that is what this place was called in the early 1600's." a shoulder lifts either not sure or uncaring if she is correct "You, like many others, are victim of a displacement. You are expereincing the psychic residue of your counterpart here. He was a good man, though he was unconvinced of this. We were close." she pauses once more for thought "I don't think there is a proper word from your time that would describe it. That is why you are here.

Quietly trying to grasp what she is saying, Marko watches her as she sweeps the floor. “Topaz?” He blinks a moment, “That is your name. You are important to me. . .to him.” He eyes his drinks, understanding somewhat the nature of the relationship between his counterpart and the mystic bartender. He eyes the ale before him and slams it down the way the current Sandman of this reality would, “New Amsterdam, say you. Perhaps this is my chance to explore how the world has changed since 1602. Though, despite whatever technological advances are here. I am sure they pale in comparison to my world. There are those with powers beyond what your mind can fathom.”

Topaz looks up from her sweeping at the mention of her name, "Yes that is as good a way to put it as any." she leans the broom against the bar "Perhaps. Perhaps not. If you manage to stick around long enough you may find that there are powers here that are unfathomable. I am not sure that exploring is the wisest of choices, but not knowing how long you will be stuck here..." she doesn't finish since he probably knows where she is going with that "You will be careful, things now are much different than what you are familiar with. For one, slavery is illegal and morally wrong. Calling someone a slave could cause many problems for you.

“Ah, I see. There were some who were against slavery even in my time.” Peering about the lounge, Marko asks, “Perhaps, it would be best if I stayed here. Perhaps you can act as a guide in this new world. At least for my time here. . .however long that may be.” A small grin crosses his face, “You can tell me more of my dopperlganger.”

An expression of sadness briefly crosses the woman's face as she is asked for aid. "I will do this." she moves to top off his mug of beer and makes a smaller one for herself, which she takes a pull off of before continueing "First you have not told me what to call you. I knew your other self as Bill, but he had other names he was known as. I sense this may be the same for you?

“I am known by many a name. Those who are familiar with my reputation know me as Sandman. But my name is Marko. No one calls me that, but since you are friendly. You may do so.” Marko ponders, “Bill. . .as in William? Clearly you and ‘Bill’ shared feelings for you to be so familiar with him. In my time on the most intimate of people refer to Williams as Bills.” He hmmmns and points to another glass of ale. But then stops himself and stands to move behind the bar, “If I am to reside here for now. I should earn my keep.”

Topaz nods, if she were anyone else that might garner a blush, but very few things make her do that "Yes, as in William." with her diminutive stature she has no way of stopping him from coming behind the bar, unless she got mystically physical and there is no reason for that "A lot more than slavery has changed. Most formalities died with the 19th century. That really isn't necessary. I have plenty of staff to help run the place.

“I must earn my keep someway, Ms. Topaz. And while formalities may be different in this century, I would not think of insulting you with another way I could earn my keep here.” A sly grin curls on his face. One that Bill would have. “Be warned though. I am, what some would call, an unsavory type. Those and my associates are among other things, pirates. We plunder and take what we like. Under out current employ of Count Von Doom, we were at war with those who voyage on the Fantastick. While I am not sure why, I felt the need to provide a warning. . .if for any reason, the kindness you are showing me.”

She gives him a quick appraising look "I don't know, my customers really like Geneveive," the frequent jazz singer that entertains on weekends "I don't think you have her vocal range." its obvious she is deliberatly misunderstanding his meaning and falls back on levity, "If you are honor bound to pay your way then I won't stop you. Warning for warning though, not all of my customers are human, so don't be alarmed if some looking more demonic than usual wanders in.

“I am sure some arrangements can be made. And no need to worry about demonic beings. Those I associate with are equally as monstrous and I am not without my own form of protection.” Marko raises his hand and blows off a bit of sand which falls to the ground though it looks more like white chalk powder. “My body is made of a pssamic material. There is a reason that some call me Sandman.”

"Two more things you and my Bill have," Topaz looks from his hand and follows the floating sand to the floor with her eyes, "or /had/ in common." there is a quick flare of grief before she reins in the projection aspect of her abilties "He was known as that too, for the same reason." she turns and begins to wipe down the bar, perhaps a little to agressively.

“I do not understand why you appear so. . .sad when you speak of my counterpart. I have surmised from the hints that you are intimate with him.” Marko ponders a moment, “Perhaps, my counterpart is like me. The life of a pirate does not make for monogamy. If he has spurned you, I apologize. But clearly, from the haze in my mind, I see the numerous encounters with various women of questionable class and outfits.” He begins to describe some of the outfits of the female Avengers and misinterprets what in his mind.

"If that were only the case." Topaz shakes her head at his misunderstanding "Rejection, bettrayal, those are simple, there is nothing final in those. Ms. Marvel, Scartlet Witch." and whatever women he describes "They are respectable woman." she's hardly going to knock there clothing choices when hers are at times equally risque "He died, your other self," she stops scrubbing the bartop. "my Bill, this world's Sandman, died.

“Ah, clearly killed in an attempt to do some evil trickery or chicanery. It appears in all realities, my counterparts are true to our nature.” A smile almost forms on his face as if this is a point of pride. Marko postulates, “Well, my apologies for his death. But clearly, it is for the best. For one such as I or we in the case of this Bill, we are doomed to follow fate. In our case, to the unsavory section of the world, or worlds.”

She spins back around the face him, her eyes flashing with anger "Be careful with your words, or you will quickly wear out your welcome." her stiff bearing and clinched fists signs that she doesn't approve of his words "You Marko, may embrace your vile wickedness, but that was not so here. He was a good man, not a saint certainly, but he was doing his best to make up for years of criminal behaviour and bad mistakes. He died with honor, protecting his students from a vengeful god.

@emit “You defend the man as if you loved him. But truly, even across realities, no one knows me better than myself. You spoke of his criminal behavior and his attempts to undo his past. I have gleaned enough from the haze in my mind to know this. . .Bill. . .was no saint, as you put it. But. . .” Marko bows his head, “I am in your home and place of profession and have clearly offended you. I shall keep my words and thoughts to myself until my time in this reality has past.” He turns to pour himself an ale, “But one final point. . .Never trust a sandman.” Once again a sinister grin posits on his face as he slams down the ale.

Topaz's eyes begin to glow as he continues to talk, her temper short on the subject, probably due to her still processing and not having come to terms with it yet...amoung other things. When he nods, conceding that he may be talking out of turn it fades "I have no problems with knowing whom I can trust." she gestures toward the "If you want to start earning your keep there are crates of scotch and vodka that need to be brought up." she gestures toward the basement "Stay on this side of the curtain. You might not like the results if you try to pass through."

Nodding his head, Marko grins. There are some clear difference between him and Bill. He moves to the crates, almost pleased he has gotten this reaction from Topaz, but part of him thinks. . .Is it true? It is possible that he can be a hero?

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License