Colin idled around the wooden dock of the port, taking in the sights and sounds and sea. He'd been here only once and only saw it at a distance, so this was essentially a new experience. The thought of visiting a new place had excited him so much that he had indeed forgotten to clean the blood off of himself, and everyone was giving him funny looks on the way here. It took until someone asked him if he was injured for him to realize it and jump into a nearby river. Honestly, it was a miracle that no one made the connection that he wasn't covered in ink, but it was a connection he could not be grateful for, since after all, he did not know it was wrong. By the time he'd arrived at the port, he'd already dried himself off. He began searching for the the schedule to see if there was anyone leaving for his destination. If not, he might have to take more than one boat. But, ah, the universe had smiled upon him that day, and there was a boat scheduled to leave for "Great Britain" today. He was so invested in the abnormality of his surroundings that he was having trouble actually finding the boat. The expansive waters before him, the smell of salt, the people roaming about, it was all so much... more. His small bag of belongings dangled heavily at his side while his head swiveled around in search of his transport.

Eventually, a very nice book object noticed his plight and walked over to him. They introduced themself as the dock's guide and kindly asked where it was he needed to go. Colin was taken aback for a moment. He'd never spoken to, or even seen this up close, another object before. He took note of their literally papery hair and skin, and they're similarly inky body. It had a slight blue tint to it, as opposed to Colin's pure black. After asking again, he finally answered his required location, and they helpfully (and frankly, naively) pointed Colin in the direction of a large, metallic boat. He wasn't quite sure how he'd board this behemoth. As he observed the other humans and objects boarding the boat, he noticed them handing a man in front a small slip of paper before heading inside. Fumbling through his pockets revealed the unsurprising fact that he did not have a ticket. This wouldn't do at all.

Colin mildly panicked before noticing a small, hatch-like window on near the bottom of the boat. Interesting. Flipping his head towards the boarding guard one last time, he sidled away towards the edge of the dock. For some reason, he felt as if they wouldn't like it if he cheated the system, but it did not matter. Colin hurtled himself off the edge towards the hull of the boat and latched on to the side of it. He found his arm digging in to the metal, as if he was somehow strong enough to dent it. He felt a sense of pride, at being so cool. However, he quickly shrugged it off and punched more holes in the boat as he inched towards the window. Smashing it open with his head and scrambling into the inner storage systems of the boat was easy as cannoli.

He settled his aching body against some wooden crates and found his eyes easing shut. Why did all of his joints creak like that? That didn't sound very normal. He tried to roll his head around on his neck but found it stiffening up. Perhaps it would be best to just... rest. He'd had a long day after all... It would be wonderful to get some... quiet... He curled up in a ball and lay next to a crate, letting the ocean lull him to sleep.

...

Colin let out a long, autotuned yawn and rubbed his open eyeballs. A strange, gnawing sensation was biting against his left arm and he drowsily turned his head to see a rat biting through it.

"AUGH!" Colin squeaked and waved his arm up and down repeatedly, finally swinging the rat off. It flew against another crate and smacked onto the ground, falling still. He swung his head around frantically and saw that 1. his bag of food was completely empty and 2. it was midnight.

"H- how long have I been out? Oh dear..." Looking out the window, he saw that they were already approaching another port.

Colin shuffled around the storage room looking for some sort of calendar. It would be a stretch but surely someone needed to know the time down in the storage room. Eventually, he spotted one resting on a gargantuan box near the entrance. Picking up the calendar, his eyes widened.

"Oh- oh my... three months..? That's... quite a long time..." Colin felt his voice break and that strange liquid welled up around his eyes again. Why was he so upset by this? Bizarre of him, wasn't it. He could have laughed at himself, it was so bizarre. On the plus side... they'd be arriving somewhere soon. Isn't that great? Yeah... great. Was it even the place he wanted to go to? He somehow doubted that the trip to Britain took 3 months. But he couldn't wait any longer, he'd just have to settle for wherever they were arriving in now.

Colin trailed back to the crate he slept by, sat down, and pulled his legs against his chest. *Sigh*

He did feel a little bad... he almost missed his old home in the woods, by the lab. This felt strange and sick, being here alone, and far away. But it was what he wanted, so he pushed the sickness away. And he still didn't understand why he felt so bad about sleeping for so long... or even HOW he did that. Was that normal? Of course it was. He was normal. He was just another object.

He wished his bag of food was still there. He liked eating and, by all means, he should be dead right? Humans and Objects can't live that long without eating, right? That's what the old lady said... but maybe he was remembering it wrong, like he often did... hmmm... Her image was already being compressed in his brain. Oh well, who gives a care.

The rat trailed back over to Colin, seemingly having recovered, and he rested his gloved hand on its little head. Cute. That was a fact. The liquid stopped coming out of his eyes, which was nice because it made him feel quite horrible. Colin curled up on the floor with the rat and waited for the boat to stop. His hair kept falling in front of his face, but he didn't want to change his hair style.