( Disorientation is the name of the game, the clean, bright halls of Starfleet Medical traded out for... wherever here is, unknown sky, surroundings, everything. He'd think he was accidentally beamed across Yorktown, but there are no Escher-like habitation rings banding the skies, no crafts in the air except for ancient zeppelins, and the surrounding city is... is... familiar, as if from a long forgotten dream.
McCoy turns an unsteady circle, in disbelief. )
My God...
( shock and rumination's gotta wait though, cut through by a piercing scream of abject misery that tears his gaze from the skyline. )
Hey- ( God, okay, he's a bit shaky legged, but he can stagger his way toward the sobbing woman, pushing past the NPC to reach her, with only the thought to help on his mind. )
no subject
McCoy turns an unsteady circle, in disbelief. )
My God...
( shock and rumination's gotta wait though, cut through by a piercing scream of abject misery that tears his gaze from the skyline. )
Hey- ( God, okay, he's a bit shaky legged, but he can stagger his way toward the sobbing woman, pushing past the NPC to reach her, with only the thought to help on his mind. )