★★★2

[didorothy]

[Sam Tyler is not daft. Really. Even if he appears on the plane holding a paper out, as if expecting it to disappear. He sets the paper down, staring at it intently, before vanishing off the plane and reappearing to check if it’s still there. It is, and everyone can see it. Next, he tries this with a particularly ugly lamp which (if the clothing doesn’t give it away) certainly tells you exactly which era Sam is stuck in. When he experiments on this with his beloved television, he drags it back home immediately rather than risk losing it. Then he brings along a chair and a radio. He sits on the former, hand over mouth, thinking for a moment. He fiddles with the radio, but only gets the sound of machinery under very fuzzy reception. Finally, he appears empty handed, fingers curled as if he was holding someone’s wrist. Chris, apparently, cannot be dragged onto the astral plane]

Hm.

[Sam immediately flips out his notepad and starts writing things down]

Comments

[didorothy]

My God. That could be disasterous.

[donutsnotwar.livejournal.com]

I know. I'm not too eager to try it out.

[didorothy]

I'd prefer to take their word on it, myself.

[donutsnotwar.livejournal.com]

I still wouldn't mind bringing in a few small things no one needs. This place looks nice, but it's a little boring.

[didorothy]

It's a bit repetative, yeah. We could, I don't know, set up a place to sit and talk? The radio doesn't work, so I doubt the telly would either. Aren't exactly any walls to hang paintings on, though.

[donutsnotwar.livejournal.com]

That sounds good! I'd like to donate to the cause, but I don't own any furniture in the first place. If I ever do get my hands on anything, I'll bring it here!

[didorothy]

Anything to make it more interesting would work, I think.