He resheathed the katana on his hip, scratched the stubble on his face, and wondered how he was going to get back to the right time. Again. She managed to sabotage his return, only delaying him enough so she could get away. Again.
It wasn’t the first time that Talon had found himself stuck in the wrong era. It was a danger of the position and his duty. His training and instinctive habits would get him closer to the resources and people who could build the proper device so he could return to his proper time. And find his target. Her.
There was the inevitable cleanup with any entry into a different time. Sometimes it was just a matter of hypnotizing the locals to forget that he was there. This time, raptors were transplanted. Sucked up along the time travel wake that was created. They had been terrorizing the university for weeks now. But now, it was 4 AM and he had to find a butcher who could properly dispose of the dinosaur bodies. In 1945. With no local currency. And a sword that could possibly identify him as a traitor due to the recent war with Japan.
His name, Talon. His job, janitor. But he preferred the term, TimeBender.
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But you should really ask him first… send someone to rub his neck, feed him a gin and tonic, that would be the best… in fact he thinks the world would be a better place if everyone got neckrubs.