Nuvema Town!

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((Well, here goes nothing! I'm going to run with the description of Nuvema Town as seen in the anime, since a town with three houses and a lab is kind of weird. Hope that is okay! And I dunno if we were supposed to teleport somewhere specifically within Nuvema. YAY MAKING STUFF UP Let me know if I'm doing it wrooong))
((ETA: It's not letting me add new tags! I tried to add [oc] thomas sinclair (ou), and @nuvema town.))

The last syllable Thomas spoke before the teleport pad took him away still lingered in the air. Thomas blinked several times as if to clear the image of the Entralink out of his head and to come to terms with the reality in front of him. "Bloody... outstanding," he said quietly, exhilarated by the whole ordeal. He took in his surroundings.

He was standing on a dock looking out into the ocean. A frigid winter wind blew over the waves and onto the dock, making the tails of Thomas's coat flap out behind him. Thomas shivered and was glad that he had dressed fairly warmly back in England. He turned around and saw that Nuvema Town -- if he had indeed teleported to the correct place -- was a rural little town surrounded by rolling hills. It reminded him of Westbury, actually, (where his father's manor was), except that it was clearly a harbor town and Westbury was inland.

A bench sat near where he had teleported in, just off the dock. Beside it was the wooden pole of a street light, and stapled to the pole was a flyer that read:

Welcome Entralink Travelers!
Nuvema Town does not have a Pokemon Center
Professor Juniper will provide free lodging and healing at her lab
Please enjoy your stay in Nuvema Town!
Nuvema Town - The Start of Something Big!

Thomas read this doubtfully. He put his bag on the bench and sat down beside it, hoping that Sandra would teleport in soon. He wouldn't quite admit it to himself, but going into town on his own seemed overwhelming. Several people walked by on the sidewalk behind the bench and Thomas gave them nervous, courteous smiles. He saw that they looked oddly at his clothes, and Thomas felt very out of place. Well, he thought, they are dressed very plainly, anyway. Perhaps they are just... unused to fine fashion. Yes, that's it exactly.

Comments

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Thomas was idly entertaining himself by breathing out little puffs of mist in the cold air and wishing he had thought to bring a cigar with him from the gambling house back in England. He was distracted by a strange noise -- a high pitched woosh of air suddenly displaced. He looked up and saw Sandra, setting her strange pink Pokemon on the ground.

Thomas smiled and stood up, holding his hat on his head as the breeze caught it. He realized that Sandra was hardly dressed appropriately for such cold weather and looked genuinely aghast. "Sandra!" he said, taking a few steps towards her. "Oh, blast," he said under his breath -- he'd forgotten his bag. He turned and picked it up quickly, then strode purposefully over to Sandra. "I'm glad you arrived safely, Sandra, but you must be frozen! Quickly, let's go inside here." He pointed to a little coffee shop near the dock. He was unused to the architecture, but it resembled the cafés he was used to in London. Anyway, it was the closest building that didn't resemble a private residence.

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Thomas laughed a bit at Sandra's haste and walked as quickly as propriety allowed to catch up with her. He bowed his head thankfully at her as he slid into the café and removed his hat. Thomas looked around, vaguely surprised at the decor of the place. It was... colorful. He took a step to the side to allow the door to close shut with a little jingle of the bell above the doorframe, and awkwardly took off his tail coat. Thomas's automatic response to entering the café was to find the person who was going to take his coat and hat. A waitress walked up to greet them and Thomas smiled at her, prepared to hand off the articles, but was interrupted.

"Just the three of you? I'll sit you away from the window; it's a cold one today!" The waitress grinned and walked towards a booth table near the middle of the store. Thomas, holding hat, coat, walking stick, and bag, looked a little put-out. He glanced at Sandra, unsure how to proceed.

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Frowning a bit, Thomas followed Sandra to the table. He awkwardly slid into the booth, being rather more dramatic about it than neccessary, and piled all his things on his lap. He smiled sardonically at the waitress as she laid out two menus on the table. Thomas felt that this was quite an inconvenience to have to suffer. He fiddled with the brim of his hat on top of the pile in his lap.

The waitress didn't seem to notice Thomas's disdain. "Pokésnack for your Audino?" she asked, smiling at Sandra and Audrey.

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Woah. Thomas was taken aback by the force of Sandra's glare. He found himself sitting rather far back in his seat. What was she saying? Don't treat... servants like servants -- no, that's not what she was saying. Don't treat people like servants because they are serving you? Was that it? They might spit in your drink? Thomas blinked and looked down at the things in his lap.

"I..." Hmm. This was a position Thomas didn't think he'd ever been in before. Scolded by a woman for doing... what? Thomas was struggling to figure it out. He lowered his voice. "I can see I have done something wrong." He slowly moved the things in his lap onto the chair. "I don't want to offend, but this is very confusing. It's just that--" Oh, how did one explain classes? It was such an integral part of society, he was still having trouble with the fact that no one seemed to follow them in this world. He tapped his fingers on the table in mild frustration. "My coat," was all he managed to say.

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Thomas, his pride wounded, pulled the menu towards him. It was type-written like a newspaper, which Thomas thought was a little extravagant. He wasn't really used to menus at all. "Awkward, yes," he agreed, reading down the menu. So much selection! Some of the things he'd never heard of. He glanced up at Sandra and suddenly realized she was trying to help him. He hadn't been listening properly. "You know all about this world," he began, feeling foolish for thinking he was going to protect a 'damsel in distress'. He laughed weakly. "I am not acting properly."

The waitress returned with a pastry-looking concoction on a plate. She set it down in front of Audrey and looked at the two humans. "You two know what you want to drink? You're in time for the lunch special, too -- sandwich and coffee, 500 Pokédollar deal."

Thomas looked at Sandra a bit desperately. "Would you... order for me?" he said quietly, shielding his face from the waitress with the menu, clearly embarassed. But, other than being unfamiliar with the whole concept of ordering off the menu, Thomas was mostly not wanting to interact with the waitress at all. He wasn't sure if he would say something wrong, and if nothing else, Thomas abided by politeness. At least, to people who were his equals. Was everyone his equal now? Surely not...

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Thomas settled into the chair and watched as the waitress walked off. He looked at Sandra seriously, although he was amused by the fact that she called him 'Tom'. He tried to remember the last time anyone called him Tom. "No, thank you for setting me straight. I do appreciate it." It was silly, he thought, to be so upset about this little transgression. He'd get the hang of this new world. Thomas patted down a crinkle in his vest. At least he was still dressed nicely, and that was something.

He watched as Sandra went through the bag, leaning forward a little to see its contents. When she pulled out the card he shook his head. "What is that? I mean, yes, it is a card -- it does look the same size as a card." He meant a playing card. Wrong.

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Thomas frowned and fished through his own bag for his card. He studied it skeptically, trying to connect it to money. How did this thing take money out of your account? He had a bank account in London, so he knew what Sandra meant by 'account', but the connection between physical money and this card was hard to wrap his mind around. He gave an amused little look at Sandra at the mention of 'modern world'. Modern was clearly subjective.

"Okay, this takes your money out of the bank somehow." He tapped it on the table. It was a magic spell or something, fine. "This is how we pay for things?" Thomas made a mental note to find a pawnbroker. He had to trade in those gold sovereigns for... Pokedollars. Clearly real money wasn't used here.

The waitress returned carrying a tray. "Here you are, guys. Enjoy!" She set down the two cups of coffee and plates with sandwiches on them. "I'll be back if you need anything," she said, and walked away.

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And of course not one word of it would make any sense to Thomas. He set the card down beside his plate and eyed the coffee. It looked like normal coffee -- he preferred tea but coffee was fashionable in his time. He took a sip. Tasted the same. Oddly comforting, that beverages stay the same through time and space. He wondered idly if they had alcohol in Pokemon land.

Thomas watched the Audino's antics with increasing amusement. He looked from the distracted Sandra back to Audrey, grinning boyishly. He cleared his throat and picked up his sandwich, not entirely sure what it was made of but hungry enough not to care. He took a bite. It was good, but... he checked under the bread. No meat? Hm.

"So, I suppose I made an assumption. You seem to be pretty familiar with a lot of concepts in this world." Thomas raised his arm, indicating the Xtransceiver. "This thing, for instance, and the ...debit? card. Is it really a lot like where you came from?"

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Thomas nodded thoughtfully, then remembered something. "Oh! I forgot to mention. When I teleported in, there was a flyer on the post by that bench. It said that, what did it say." He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, recreating it in his mind. "It said that this town didn't have a Pokemon Center -- whatever that means -- and that some professor... Um... it was a tree. Cherry? Willow? No, I think it was Juniper. Anyway, this Professor has 'free lodging and healing' at their... lab." He took another sip of coffee. "I have no idea what any of that means, but it was addressed to 'Entralink Travelers', which I suppose is us."

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Thomas wasn't entirely sure about that. Free lodging didn't exactly appeal -- he couldn't imagine the kind of people that an advertisement like that would attract. Poor people, that's who. But if Sandra wanted to go there, he'd go, also. Thoughts of his own home flashed through his mind: expensive furniture, his comfortable bed, the carefully designed decor. He had a very low opinion of someplace that offered free lodging.

Thomas was nearly done with his sandwich, and he looked at the debit card. "I don't know how Pokedollars translate to real money, but I think the waitress said this meal was 500 of them." He frowned. Dollars were the American currency, he knew. The sovereigns in his coat pocket were worth a pound sterling each (or, in a modern sense £150 each.) So Thomas's sense of money was very skewed, indeed. He knew a meal like this in his own time was not close to being worth one of those sovereigns. So what did 500 Pokedollars equal? "Pokedollars must be a very small currency," he decided.

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The waitress returned with a coffee pot. She smiled and refilled Sandra and Thomas's mugs. "Separate checks?" she asked cheerfully.

Thomas watched the waitress carefully and decided he'd take the plunge. "Um, yes?" he said carefully, not really sure what it meant. He held up the debit card experimentally, holding it towards the waitress as though he didn't really believe she'd take it as payment. "Take the money from this card, please."

The waitress gave him an odd look for a moment, but recovered. "Certainly, sir." She pulled two receipts out from one of the pouches of her apron and set them on the table, then took the card from Thomas. Thomas eyed his receipt suspiciously, and dragged it across the table with his finger.

And sorry from me, haha. Internet went out last night!

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Thomas rapped his knuckles on the table, reading the receipt. "Well, this is actually rather convenient," he admitted, realizing the purpose of the little slip of paper. "If you want to remember what you spent money on, anyway." He took a sip of coffee, feeling better now that he had successfully paid for his meal.

"If we are going to go anywhere in this weather, we need to get you a proper coat," he said, nodding decidedly. "I wonder if they have tailors here? I had a very good tailor in London." He glanced down at his silk vest and touched one of the silver buttons fondly. "Of course, everyone dresses so plainly in this world --" and the women wear trousers! "-- perhaps they have to buy un-tailored clothing." Thomas wondered if he should go on about how odd it was that everyone's clothing, while very unfashionable, was made with very high quality fabric. It was incongruous, and Thomas had noticed it immediately. He could see that he was the only one who felt this way, however, so he didn't say anything about it. "And then I suppose we should figure out what we are going to do with ourselves."

Re: Aw, man! I hate when that happens. :^(

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Thomas Leo-squinted narrowed his eyes skeptically at the idea of taking the hassle out of clothes shopping. Clothing was... he loved clothing! His major regret -- besides not having his valet Abraham here with him, besides being stuck in another universe, besides anything -- was the fact that he knew he didn't have anything to wear tomorrow. And now to learn that clothing was bought in some kind of... fish market! He sighed.

"Well, then... fine, we will get clothes like that, I suppose." Oh, what sacrifices he was having to make. He looked thoughtfully at Sandra as she looked out the window. "I think you should stay here and I will go and get you a coat."

The waitress returned with their cards. She placed them on the table, wished them both a good day and walked off to greet a couple who just walked in. Thomas picked up his card. "The only problem is, I do not know how long it would take for me to find a... coat shop? So you might have to wait for a little while. I am quite sure you should not go outside without a proper coat, though." He gave a decisive nod, then began to gather his things and stand up.

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Thomas looked up in surprise, pausing as he put on his coat. "Get rid of you? I didn't mean--" His eyes darted down from Sandra and lingered uneasily on the floor. He slowly finished putting on his coat, trying to figure out how he had transgressed this time. "I don't want to get rid of you, Sandra, not at all." He pulled his bag across the booth seat by its strap, avoiding looking up. "I was going to... get you a coat."

In fact, he'd been secretly planning on buying her a very nice coat, or at least trying to. It would have taken a long time, both because he would have had trouble finding a coat he thought was nice enough and because he was going to try and pay for it with a gold coin, but Thomas didn't know that.

He ran his fingers through his hair, frowning. "Are you sure you'll be fine? It's very cold." A pause. "You could wear my coat! Yes, well, it will look very odd, but if you don't put your arms through the sleeves it could be like a cloak." He smiled, pleased for having come up with the idea, and started taking off his coat again.

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He was halfway through taking it off again when she said no. He frowned in exasperation. "Really, Sandra, I insist," he said. Coat removed, he took a hesitant step towards Sandra, then carefully, but as quickly as possible, hung the coat around her shoulders. There. It was so hard to act properly here! But he didn't care if Sandra was annoyed with him, she needed a coat and this was the only option.

Thomas gave her a brief look, then gathered up his bag and headed for the door before she could try and argue. He paused, though, and looked back. "Oh, I should probably... take the revolver out of the pocket." Feeling a bit sheepish, he walked back to Sandra and gestured vaguely at the left side of the coat. "It's in the left pocket." There was no way he was going to try to get at it himself, not while Sandra was wearing the coat.

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It was Thomas's turn to raise an eyebrow. Usually women were touchier about guns. He shrugged, stashing the information about guns in public places away, and stepped towards the door, walking quickly to get there before Sandra. He held it open for her.

"We will get you a coat first thing. And anything else we need, I suppose. Who knows how far away this Professor lives? And I haven't seen a cab anywhere." He laughed. "For that matter, I haven't seen a horse. Do you suppose they don't have horses here?"

Sorry for the late reply!

[thomas-sinclair.livejournal.com]

((OOC - I think this thread is nearing an end, though, anyway lol. We could skip ahead to the first Route maybe?))

Thomas let the door close behind him with a jingle and squared his shoulders against the cold breeze. He laughed at Sandra's comment. "Well, of course their bloody horses are covered with fire! I guess really I'd be more surprised if they were completely normal."

He walked beside Sandra, swinging his cane jovially. Despite the culture shock, Thomas was enjoying himself. He wouldn't have said so, (he fancied himself a courageous individual), but this was an adventure rather tailored to his liking -- all new experiences, but absolutely no danger. At least, no danger that he could tell. Nothing had jumped out as particularly dangerous, anyway. The outlandish beasts were all as tame as could be, and even the strange-looking people he'd met were harmless. And, of course, he was in such fine company.

He smiled, glancing at Sandra surreptitiously. It was really too bad that she was engaged, he thought idly. There were such strict levels of decorum that went with dealing with another man's fiance. He still felt vaguely unsettled about it. Men and women weren't supposed to travel together like this, not really. When he had felt a sense of duty to protect the lady from the dangers of the world, there had been a precedent for going with her. But now that he had -- quite humbly, in his opinion -- admitted that she was actually far more accustomed to this world than he, the precedent seemed stripped away.

A building with a blue roof came into view and Thomas was shaken out of his thoughts. "Well, that looks promising. 'Pokémart' -- ha! Everything is Poké-something or other here." A breeze blew past and Thomas shivered. "Let's see if they sell coats here, hm?"

[thomas-sinclair.livejournal.com]

((Yep, that's fine!))

The Pokémart had been an uncomfortable experience for Thomas. There were a confusing proximity of amazing materials and cheap products: plastic was a new thing for him, and there were things made of aluminium! Just normal things, nothing special at all. Beverages came in little cans made of it! This was rather amazing to Thomas, who was used to aluminium costing more than silver. Most things were too different to be alarmed about -- anything electric or digital was clearly outside his realm of experience and didn't make him nervous -- but it was things like aluminium that gave him pause.

Despite that, what bothered him most was the fact that he could see that he was going to have to assimilate to this world. It was with extreme reluctance that he bought new clothing at the Pokémart. The fashions were absurd. He didn't want to wear his top hat day-to-day -- it was, after all, a hat to be worn around high society -- but he simply had to have a hat. However, the hat selection was appalling. There were no bowlers, or boaters, not even a proper cap. There were only shapeless cloth things and hats whose brims stuck out only on the front like a visor. These had been identified to him as "baseball caps" which made absolutely no sense to Thomas -- why on earth would you want to wear part of an American sports uniform? He bought one, though, and some other 'modern' clothing, grimacing as he did so but finally surrendering to a "when in Rome, do as the Romans do" mindset.

As he and Sandra started down the road, Thomas was in rather low spirits. He was carrying a backpack -- a backpack! So undignified. -- which held items that foretold a very unhappy future for Thomas. Camping. They were going to have to camp. He was veritably shuffling along. When they approached the warning sign and Sandra made her comment, he grumbled in response. "Oh, damn th -- er. My apologies." He cleared his throat and straightened up. Gentlemen never cursed in polite company. "I mean to say, um... I'm sure that we'll be fine. We've both our own Pokémon, after all."

He reached into the pocket of his new pants and pulled out the Pokéball that contained his Teddiursa, Dodger. "And, we've also, what? Five empty balls? We're supposed to catch more, I think." He stifled a yawn; he had found it hard to sleep last night. He peered down the path into the distance, where the route seemed to be overgrown with tall grass occasionally. "But I'm still not entirely sure why we're supposed to have them at all. I mean, other than to protect us from the wild ones. Did you ever get that properly explained to you?"

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He groaned a bit at the 'journey' phrase. Journeys were all well and good when you were on a ship, or on a hot air balloon -- Thomas was a huge fan of hot air balloons -- but when the journey was all walking he was far less enthused about it.

Thomas cast a glance at Sandra when she said she didn't want any more Pokémon. He thought about that. What was the purpose of having more than one? Thomas remembered his family's pack of foxhounds. Were Pokémon used for hunting? It didn't seem likely.

Thinking about the foxhounds made Thomas consider their other dog, the ratting terrier. It was a pampered thing, well fed and exercised by the servants. That was because it was expensive -- a trained ratter, not for exterminating household pests, but for gambling events. (Shady establishments Thomas frequented hosted ratting events -- a dog was put into a pit arena with a number of rats and bets were made on how many rats the dog could kill in a certain amount of time.) Thomas wondered if Pokémon represented some kind of commercial business, like ratting or dog- and cock-fighting. It was an underground business in the England Thomas knew, and technically illegal, but it was nevertheless a thriving business that nearly everyone participated in at one time or another. Maybe that was it? It did rather mesh with things N had said to him in the Entralink; about properly caring for his Teddiursa and so on as if he were supposed to be specially trained. But it didn't seem to match with being friends with Pokémon, and Thomas had to consider that Pokémon were apparently sentient. So, not like dogs or roosters. But then, Thomas mused, gladiators were sentient, weren't they?

But all of this was beside the point. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "Yes, the sooner we start down this horrid road the sooner we can get off it." He adjusted the straps of his backpack uncomfortably and marched forward. Thomas looked critically at the small field that intersected the path. "You would think that, since this road seems to be used often, they'd keep it in better repair," he grumbled, and took a tentative first step into the brush.

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Thomas laughed sardonically at that. "Oh, yes, they value their rustic-ness here, don't they." He reached behind his shoulder to grab at his walking stick, which he had slung through the straps of the backpack. He wielded it like a machete, swinging it back and forth as he trudged forward. It wasn't doing much to help clear the way, but it was helping with his frustration. "I think I'll be thoroughly sick of this place by the end of the day. Expecting folks to go out on untended country roads without so much as a donkey to... Oh, good lord, what the devil is that?"

Thomas stepped back quickly towards Sandra, stumbling through the tall grass in his haste. "That's the biggest rat I've ever seen! And the thing's bloody purple!" Indeed, a Rattata was bounding through the path beaten down by Thomas. It sniffed at the broken blades of grass then leaned back on its hind legs and glared up at the two people. The fur on its neck bristled and it chittered angrily. Tatta tatta rat!

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"Well, yes, it's a Pokémon, all the animals here are Pokémon..." He looked at the Rattata, frowning. "It's just a rat, though. I mean. It's purple, but..." He shrugged and awkwardly slipped his walking stick back into his backpack. He rustled in his pocket and pulled out the Pokéball that held his Teddiursa, Dodger. Looking at it, he realized the brilliance of the situation. What better way to train his little gladiator than on a rat?

Thomas tossed the Pokéball on the ground near the Rattata, who jumped back and squeaked angrily at it. The Pokéball opened and the Teddiursa emerged, holding a silver pocketwatch in the claws of his right hand. He blinked in surprise at the Rattata and looked questioningly back at Thomas.

Thomas gestured towards the Rattata. "Well, go on. Get it!" he said, somewhat amused by the situation. It reminded him of training the terrier back home. Thomas glanced at Sandra, a bit worried about how she would react. Animal fighting was somewhat beyond the sensibilities of the women he was accustomed to, even if it was a rat. He looked back to the Teddiursa. "Fight the rat, Dodger!"

The Teddiursa smiled slowly and put the pocketwatch on the ground by the open Pokéball. He turned to face the Rattata, who was all coiled back defensively. Suddenly, the Rattata leapt forward and bit at Dodger's arm -- a Quick Attack. Dodger stumbled to the side and Thomas frowned. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, after all. The Teddiursa ran towards the Rattata, lifting an arm high before striking with a Scratch. The Rattata hopped back, looking injured.

Thomas watched apprehensively. Dodger looked back at him, not making a move on his own. "I guess you'd better kill it now, Dodger, it's already bitten you once." In Thomas's experience, injured animals were far more dangerous than healthy ones. But he wasn't really sure how to proceed. Was he supposed to kill the purple rat? Or was he supposed to catch it? He looked at Sandra. "Do you think this is how it's supposed to be done? I'm not really sure..."

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"Really? I thought... Well, if they all have some kind of honor code built in, I guess that's one thing." He waved imperiously to the Teddiursa. "All right, Dodger, scratch at it again, maybe that'll do it."

Dodger looked somewhat confused, but he turned back to face the Rattata. The wild Pokémon turned and waved its curved tail side-to-side, trying to distract the Teddiursa. Tail Whip. Dodger rushed towards the Rattata and took another slash at it. It squeaked and leapt into the air, then scurried away into the tall grass. Dodger grinned triumphantly and toddled back to Thomas.

"Good show, Dodger. Here--" Thomas reached into his backpack and dug around in its contents for a minute. He pulled out a Potion. "I suppose I just... spray it on, there..." He knelt and sprayed the healing liquid on Dodger's arm, where he'd been bitten.

While he was kneeling, Thomas scooped up the cub's pocket watch. Dodger hopped and made grabby hands at it as Thomas did so. "Hold on, hold on; I'm going to make it like a collar for you." He wrapped the chain of the pocketwatch around the Teddiursa's neck, fastening the end of the chain to the loop of the watch. Dodger seemed pleased with the new arrangement. "And I suppose you'd better stay out of your ball while we're walking around in this quagmire. You can protect us from any more purple rats. Or whatever else is out here."

Thomas brushed his hands together as he stood up. He looked at Sandra. "Well, that went all right, I guess," he said, grinning. It had actually been rather exciting. "Still, I hope we don't get accosted by wild animals too often." He trudged forward through the grass once more.

"So! Miss Sandra McBride, we have been travelling for a fair amount of time together now. Let's see, I know you were a... waitress? In Texas, in the unimaginable year of 2011. Before you came here, anyway." He looked over at Sandra. "And I know you are engaged. And, if your surname is anything to go by, your ancestors were Scottish. But that, I believe, is the whole of what I know about you." He smiled. "I hope our worlds are not so different that we have nothing else to talk about."

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Thomas's own expression darkened a bit at Sandra's description of himself. He knew it was true -- that he needed instruction -- but it injured his pride to hear it out loud like that, and 'modern' still stung. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Well, I'd be happy to prattle on about myself, I suppose..." He sighed. "Here, I don't know. Topic of conversation." He gestured aimlessly, pulling an idea out of the air. It was hard: there were no politics to discuss, no gossip to share. His usual avenues of discussion were missing here. "Tell me about... your family?"

The tall grass cleared, and for a little while the route stretched on quite clear. Dodger ran back and forth across the path, picking up small stones as they caught his interest then abandoning them for new ones. Thomas thought about his question in the moments after he asked it. Too personal? It's possible Sandra was an orphan or something, he supposed. He suddenly had a thought. What if Sandra was cursed, just like him? What if all those that were brought to the Entralink were cursed, and that was why they were here after all? He'd given up that possibility because everyone had said this wasn't Fairy, but now he saw that that didn't mean anything. He made a mental note to try and find out. Curses were embarassing things, after all; it's unlikely Sandra would mention it on her own.

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"Oh. I'm... I'm terribly sorry." He looked at Sandra, feeling genuinely apologetic. That's what you get for prying, I suppose. Of course, Thomas thought she meant some kind of train accident -- no cars in his time -- but the sentiment was the same. He removed his baseball cap and turned it over in his hands, feeling a bit awkward.

"Um.. hmm. That was rather an unfortunate question on my part, then, I'm afraid." He bit his lip, trying to think of how to recover. He had never been so awkward back in England, back in his element. This new world was making him timid, and he was feeling somewhat frustrated about it. "Oh, that's the trouble with being new acquaintances. You never know what not to discuss." He managed a sad smile. "Is there anything you would like to talk about? I do hate to be an annoyance, you know; if you'd rather walk along in silence I'll happily oblige." That last part might have been a bit snippier than necessary, but Thomas didn't catch it.

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Thomas frowned a bit. It seemed impertinent to discuss his own family when it had just been revealed that Sandra didn't have one. And he didn't quite appreciate the past tense... What was your family like? That implied things Thomas wasn't quite ready to accept.

But he shrugged. "Oh, I told you a little bit about them already, when we were at the Entralink. My father is Baron of Westbury, my mother is French. Hmm. I do not have any siblings." He laughed. "That's actually rather dull, isn't it?" He paused for a few moments, gazing down the stretch of path ahead of him, thinking of home. He hadn't lived with his parents for quite some time; if anything his real family was Abraham, his valet. They were roughly the same age and had known each other all their lives. He found himself rather missing Abraham, and not just because he had had to do everything for himself the past two days. He was surprised he felt that way: servants were not family. Servants were inferiors.

He looked back to Sandra. "Sorry, my mind wandered a bit. Um. Yes. My family. I have cousins; they are older than I am, and most of them are married. We go fox-hunting together sometimes. I see my mother's relatives rarely -- they live in France." Oh, this was getting duller. He kicked at a rock on the road. "Perhaps family was a poor choice of conversation," he admitted. He was feeling sad now, and it was bothering him that the sadness was all for Abraham.