That doesn't necessarily preclude it being some form of Kayne, in Arthur's mind, but he doesn't know if all of them have the same propensity for violence. If the intenstines weren't being used to decorate the town hall, perhaps the evidence is a little thin. But coming to people in their minds, invading their dreams with terror...
Fuck.
But he's struck out of his concerned reverie by the Doctor's sudden motion again. "Oh, oh that- th-that's not--"
Necessary? Bullshit, he needs clothes regardless. A relevant story? When the Doctor's already seen the scars, he can't deny it sort of is.
So he just sighs. More of a huff.
"I'm a private investigator, from Arkham, Massachusetts, in- in 1934." He makes sure his voice carries for the Doctor, at least. "In the last five months, however, I became... entangled, with a being of a similar existence to the Darkwalker - similiar only in their, er. Existential, otherworldly nature. Our time together was... difficult, to say the least, a-and we, er." He sighs into his tea as he takes a sip. He appreciates the warmth, at least, because right now his mouth tastes like ash. "Well, we got into a lot of shit, frankly. I wasn't lucky enough to get out of all of it in one piece, or... or occasionally even alive."
He frowns, and his voice lowers, more with his melancholy than any attempt to hide it. "This is the first time my death has taken me somewhere else, somewhere - without my friend."
no subject
Fuck.
But he's struck out of his concerned reverie by the Doctor's sudden motion again. "Oh, oh that- th-that's not--"
Necessary? Bullshit, he needs clothes regardless. A relevant story? When the Doctor's already seen the scars, he can't deny it sort of is.
So he just sighs. More of a huff.
"I'm a private investigator, from Arkham, Massachusetts, in- in 1934." He makes sure his voice carries for the Doctor, at least. "In the last five months, however, I became... entangled, with a being of a similar existence to the Darkwalker - similiar only in their, er. Existential, otherworldly nature. Our time together was... difficult, to say the least, a-and we, er." He sighs into his tea as he takes a sip. He appreciates the warmth, at least, because right now his mouth tastes like ash. "Well, we got into a lot of shit, frankly. I wasn't lucky enough to get out of all of it in one piece, or... or occasionally even alive."
He frowns, and his voice lowers, more with his melancholy than any attempt to hide it. "This is the first time my death has taken me somewhere else, somewhere - without my friend."