One, Maybe Two, Ways Out

Sonya felt a flush cover her face at his question. "I erm..." She mumbled, clearing her throat she looked straight ahead again. "I borrowed one of the Doctor's ninth incarnation's TARDIS... You know, for practical use. I suppose this would be one of those moments, yeah?" She asked dryly, finally casting a glance over at Damon. Lifting her shoulders into a small shrug, she shoved her hands into her coat pockets and picked up the pace. "You want to get away from them and get to the bottom of this all, I would suggest figuring out exactly where we're going then, because once we get inside, I'm taking off." She added before turning a corner and walking up a set of stairs there towards one of the doors on the second floor. "Come on then."

"Wait," Damon called out, jogging up the steps to go after Sonya. "No TARDIS, those things hate me. You don't even seem to have a plan." He pushed back the sleeve of his jacket, tapping the screen of his manipulator. "I've been running from this thing for a few months now. I can handle it myself. To some degree. I've got a few more hideouts until I figure out where to go next." He sounded more serious, more mature than he's ever been, no trace of jokes or humor in his voice. His left arm was stinging, burning from the leather pressing against it. "Plus, I also have a hunch that neither of us know exactly where we're supposed to go." Damon took a step back, nodding behind him back to the stairs. "I've even got one spot directly under a set of stairs like Harry Potter."

Sonya turned around and faced him, a slight frown on her face from the disappointment she wouldn't get to fly the TARDIS. "Oh fine, we'll use that death trap of a ride." She said with a slight sigh. Shaking the hair from her eyes, she studied him close for a moment then lifted one of her hands to point at the cut on his arm. "And when we get wherever we're going, I am fixing that weather you like it or not." She added with an arched eyebrow, already walking towards him so she could grab onto his manipulator when he was ready. "Please don't use the Harry Potter room, I doubt there would be comfortable room for the both of us in there." Sonya added with a wry grin up at him. No matter what regeneration I'm in, I'm always shorter than anyone I run into. She thought in slight irritation.

Damon smirked, "I think that's the point." He said softly before pressing down on the final button. A flash and two seconds later, the surroundings had changed. Damon pulled his arm away from Sonya, pushing the sleeve back over the manipulator. It was a small room with metal walls and a cement floor. A rotting wood table sat in the corner beside a mattress with a single throw pillow on it. No doors and just a tiny, round window. In the other corner was another, just as rotted table, with three chairs. "I've only been to this one a few times." He said as casually as he could, leaning against the wall as he rested his head back. "But it's pretty hard to find. Hopefully."

"I don't think anyone would want to find it even if they did." Sonya mumbled, staring wide-eyed at their surroundings with what could be classified as a horrified expression. "Where exactly is this place anyway? The wilds of Russia?" She hesitated for a moment, debating on where she should sit before opting for leaning against a wall. "I think I'd take the cupboard over this." She added, quirking an eyebrow as she looked at Damon with a sigh. The room smelled stale and rotted, the dust even smelled awful, and usually it just smelled... Dusty. Wrinkling her nose, she slid down and sat cross-legged on the floor with her elbows on her knees. "No offense, Damon, but what's with the stink?"

"I told you it was hard to find. Meaning it's also hard to see from the outside. That's a dump you smell. You could have just looked out the window, you know." Damon replied, pulling his jacket off and tossing it onto the mattress before sitting down beside it. He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in weird directions in certain parts. "And not much clean air gets in here. That window doesn't open, and if you break it, the smell would be worse. Makes it hard to sleep at night, but..." He shrugged, leaning back so he was staring at the ceiling, resting his head on the throw pillow. "We're not staying here too long, I think you'll be okay for a little bit."

"Right..." Sonya nodded, looking around the room again for a moment then back over at Damon with a huff of air. "So, what plan do you have? Or do you even have one for that matter?" She finally asked, the urge to stand up and start to pace nearly overwhelming at the moment. Her mind and body urging her to keep moving, don't stop, keep walking, running. Don't stop, Don't stop.

Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes and tried to calm down. He said the place was nearly impossible to hide. They were safe there for the moment, nothing could just appear and try to kill them right then and there. "How did you even find this place anyway?"

Damon grinned childishly, shutting his eyes. "I have a lot of ways. One being accidentally pressing the wrong button." He said, lifting his left arm to wave the manipulator around, which backfired as stale air hit the cut. He dropped his arm immediately, keeping his eyes shut as he blocked out any pain trying to force its way through. "And plan? No, I don't have a plan. I never have a plan. Plans are demanding and restricting. I'm not planning anything." His eyes snapped open, the blue paler than before and dilated. "Do you ever stop talking or is it a thing with you?" He sat up, raising his eyebrows almost mockingly as he smirked, amusement etched across his face.

"If I don't talk I move. And if I don't move, I talk. It's pretty much one or the other with me." Sonya admitted, her eyes moving once more to his arm. "Take your jacket off and let me have a look at that." She added dryly, getting to her feet and wandering over to the side of the mattress he sat on. "If your arm is bad and you plan on running, I would suggest getting it fixed so you have more time to worry about the next attack, not the next time your arm will work properly."

(Short post I know, i'm gonna go to bed tho. I'll reply in the morning. Nighty night Balloon Man)

Damon fell back onto the mattress again, groaning as he pulled off his jacket with some difficulty. He didn't want to move. Tossing the jacket to the side, Damon turned his head so his cheek was on the pillow and he looked at Sonya. "My arm is completely fine. I can easily run with a cut. Which is exactly what it is... A cut." He said softly, shutting his eyes as he smirked. "Feel free to take care of it though. Am I allowed to take a nap or are you not done talking?" He opened one eye, raising the opposite eyebrow as his mischievous smirk returned.

Rolling her eyes, Sonya rested a hand on his arm, watching carefully as a tendril of energy slowly roamed over the cut, sealing the wound and healing it completely. "Your going to take a nap while you have company? Hardly polite of you." She teased, an eyebrow raising up slightly as she looked down at him in amusement. "Why are you so damn tired if you have so many places to hide anyway?"

Damon shut his eyes, or at least the one eye that was still open. "Because... I don't sleep. Simple as that. I don't hide out often. I tend to run from the guy a lot. It's amusing." He shrugged to the best of his ability while lying there. "I didn't realize I had to have a reason for being tired." He muttered, hardly paying attention anymore to what he was saying. "Oh, and plus, I'm not a polite person. Being polite is more tiring than all the running from that death sentence. Maybe. Which, in some way reminds me, I don't like that healing thing you did." He opened his eyes a crack, not opening them enough to make it even look like they were open. He studied her face silently, "which brings me back to my question. Am I allowed to take a nap or are you not done talking?"

"You don't have to like it, only accept it." Sonya muttered quietly then getting to her feet and sitting down at the rotting table, her arms folded over her chest as she gazed at the wall opposite of her for a moment in silence. "go to sleep if you like. I can't promise I won't be annoying, You know for a fact that I hate sitting in one small spot for more than a few minutes at a time." She added dryly, not even glancing over at him as she spoke. "I'll just sit here and try to converse with the mold on the table."

At that, she glanced down at the wood next to her elbow and winced at the moss growing over the top of it. The smell was dusty and death, this, she thought suddenly with a wry smile, is what an old coffin would smell like if it were opened after being left in the ground for a few months. Maybe a year or two...