A Chinese Restaurant in Bristol, Sunday Evening

It was probably a very bad idea, coming here. Mitchell had only spent the better part of the past year running to get away from this lot, get out of this world and rejoin the other one. But he'd heard whispers on the streets, and some part of him - be it the cautious part, or the other one, the one that curved in his stomach and reeled like an angry dog sometimes - pulled to it.

And now he was here. Dark, dank, totally cliche. A cave, just transformed: a pub now, with a back room.

And Herrick.

( You're late. )

[[ so when i said i was done with the pilot, i lied. truly done now! nfb, nfi, ooc-okay ]]