How many goodly creatures are there here! :: GAME OPENER

[synergismus]

Welcome to Baedal.

These are the first words newcomers hear when the door opens and they are invited into their new world. Some fuss, some fight, some need time before they have the courage to step outside. Others, shell-shocked or jaded, go quietly along with the proceedings.

They are given brief instructions; a repeat of what's described in the pamphlet and a door key.

Please stay in your room. There will be dinner soon.

It's been almost a day for some. For others, only an hour's wait. The latest newcomer is lead straight from the arrival room to the dining hall where candles and lanterns have been set out to compensate for failing electricity. (Those who have been here longer explain about rolling blackouts.) The food, however, is warm, varied and plentiful. Seating is open, and less conventional chair are available to those who need them.

There are many strange faces around the table, the majority of these recent arrivals. The proprietor of the Valhalla Inn is here, as is some of her staff. The Sheriff of Mog Hill is introduced, his function detailed. The reason for the dinner is explained:

It's a celebration. A new cohort has finally been officiated; CeidaryBlue523. Your cohort. Please. Introduce yourself. Mingle. Get to know your fellows, they will be your brothers and sisters for as long as you live in this city.


((OOC post for discussion and coordination.))

Comments

Public Room

[synergismus]

Once newcomers have been shown their rooms, they're welcome to come and mingle in the public room of the Valhalla Inn. This is an all-purpose rec room with well-worn but clean furniture, bookcases, and boardgames. There are a few corkboards up with reminders of the Inn Rules (mostly commonsense), some advertisements for local businesses, and a few snapshots of the locals having fun at the bazaar. It's the sort of comfortable, but not too personal, space common in hostels.

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Hellboy had arrived early in the day, and after reading Finding Baedal a couple of times through, spent the rest of the time stewing in his room. But now he was finally out, and rather than head directly for the food, he decides to stretch his legs and wander around a little. This exploration eventually takes him to the public room, where he starts browsing the bookshelves, making note of titles he might want to check out later.

[gramarye]

Wolfgang has been having an awful day, but to his credit he's holding himself together pretty well. A year ago he probably would have been a screaming wreck huddled on the floor; now he's able to leave the room he's been assigned and face the situation head-on. He hasn't eaten yet -- the food looks all right but he's not sure what's in it and he doesn't want to offend anyone by asking. Anyway, his nerves are shot and his stomach's all up in knots and he's not even sure he could keep anything down. He feels sort of ill. He's been told that's not terribly uncommon and he supposes it wouldn't be, but it's not comforting to know that one's reaction is normal when one's environment is completely fucking insane.

He touches things occasionally, like he's testing to see if he's not imagining all of this. (That is exactly what he's doing, in fact.) He has his nails dig into the inside of his wrist, but doesn't wake up -- this doesn't feel like a dream either, not even one of his recent, hyper-realistic ones. They never go on this long, for one thing.

He looks about as out of place as he always does, so tall and rail-thin, which normally he's all right with, but... extenuating circumstances and all. When he sits, he looks stiff and extremely uncomfortable, in addition to pale and rather drawn, but at least that can be written off as "I just got kidnapped to another universe" blues. He has to force himself to try and relax and it helps that he can glance at those board games with a look of mild amusement. What a strange idea.

[cassie_of_troy]

A third time. A third time? It was too much, too, too much. So much too much that Cassandra had spent the better half of the morning laughing. Perhaps crying a bit too, but mostly laughing. All things told, it took her several hours to pull herself together enough to venture outside of her room. Still, she walked with an unsteady gait, a colt's first steps.

Entering the public room, she was immediately overwhelmed by the number of strange-looking, new people. It was just too much. A laugh gurgled up in her throat before she could stop it and she had to clamp a hand over her mouth.

Why was this always happening to her?

Her dark eyes scanned the room, searching for a familiar face, anyone she could recognize from home or from one of the other worlds she had visited. She needed that, right now. She needed a flash of familiarity to keep her steady, to ground her. Someone she knew. She would even have settled for an enemy.

"Othryoneus," she muttered to herself, "what am I going to do?"

[51stcentury]

Jack never has been one for reading when there's action that can be taken instead, so rather than reading up on where he is and why he's there, he decides he's going to find out for himself instead. Making his way down to the public room he takes a look around at the space. Cozy enough, but he's not really sure what to make of the fact that he's there in the first place. A Rift flare, perhaps?

[justanothercop.livejournal.com]

Lewis had been at the door of his 'room' for the last few hours - yelling and pounding his fists on the door. He had even resorted to kicking and shouldering the door but to no avail. And then - the door opened.

After damn near falling down as the door opened unexpectedly, Lewis stumbled forward and took in his new surroundings. This place - a party? What in the world? A cohort? What was a 'cohort' and why did he need one?

The copper walked over to the nearest person and gave a small wave. "What the hell?"

[defenestration]

After meeting up with Lex and deciding the best course of action would be to see what information can be gleaned from the others around the hotel, Adrian makes his way into the public room. He finds a place to stand where he's not in anyone's way but is far from unobtrusive, hands in the pockets of well-tailored black trousers in a posture of casual confidence.

Dining Hall

[synergismus]

The hall is spacious and can easily accommodate one hundred for dinner. Along one wall there is a buffet of simple, but generally well-prepared foods -- daal, rice, an assortment of vegetarian dishes, something labelled stoneshroom (it has the taste and texture of chicken), and a limited number of meat dishes.

[apostatised]

Much as it doesn't thrill Martel to merrily jaunt from one shipwreck to the next, he will give Baedal this: solving the problem of stabling for Kalten within a day frees up a great deal of his time. (To do what, exactly? Marinating in his own self-pity isn't that time-consuming. Perhaps now he can investigate self-flagellation; presumably someone about the place has a horsewhip.)

What's presently occupying him at the moment is an inoffensive vegetarian dish with rice, and not engaging those around him in conversation, his thoughts elsewhere, weighed down by the silver amulet hanging around his neck. Maybe he'll be more approachable after he's eaten.

[hurricane-james.livejournal.com]

Once dinner is has been served, the sheriff and his wife can be found seated at one of the long dining tables quietly chatting with each other about the new arrivals, the state of things in Mog Hill, and whatever else comes to mind. While they're comfortable talking to each other, they're both more than willing to talk to any newcomer that chooses to sit with them.

[ironshodboots]

Nazca's taken a bit of food and seated herself, but she isn't eating. For now, she's mainly watching the other new arrivals, listening, and trying to sort things out.

Her curls are loose, mostly but not entirely concealing the angry sting marks and scratches on her neck. Her eyes, behind her glasses, are focused and attentive, though she doesn't stare at any one person.

[mightyfallen]

It's been nearly a year since Jack found himself in an arrival room here at the Inn. There's some nostalgia to returning, although really he hadn't spent much time here to begin with – he had arrived more frustrated than disoriented, and finding his feet in Baedal had been significantly easier with one city abduction under his belt (and a rather well-stocked safe along for the ride this time). More than reliving the past, today he's busy welcoming the future.

("Future voting populace" might be more accurate.)

So here he is, offering the newcomers what guidance he can, or commiseration when he can't. He's taken up a position in the dining room and is not so much eating as hanging about near the food, grazing and drinking the punch. That it isn't spiked is, he thinks, rather cruel all things considered.

[jysiri.livejournal.com]

When first presented with the situation and the explanations offered for it, Jysiri had felt relief. He was free of his employers and all of their projects which sapped his time away. He was quite curious to meet humans, by virtue of all the things he knew they made.

He was less enthusiastic about being dropped into a place crawling with mammals, with barely any of his belongings. He missed his wardrobe and his jewelry boxes and sketchbooks, unfinished work... heavens, unfinished work for which he had been paid! And he wouldn't be able to reach Xax. That, too. Was that worth being free of his employers? It didn't seem as if he had much choice in the matter, either way.

He did his best to make himself presentable, with what he'd been wearing on his arrival. He was just glad that his robes were clean. They were not his worst, only the sort of thing he would wear while at home, away from view. Layers of dark blue fabric, without embroidery, lined with softer cloth and cut in such a way as to allow his small wings and his tail. He wound the two agate bead chains he had around his neck, leaving them out of his hair, and after some debate - these things are important - strung the aquamarine he had onto the chain.

He'd taken off the ring of his order almost immediately upon his arrival. The gem was better than the aquamarine, but he was glad to be rid of that. He could sell it. Hopefully he wouldn't have to sell the rest... but... that would come later. Now it was time to go see the humans.

So, the peacock made his way to the dining hall, in his humanoid form, like a blue-skinned elf, with his long tail wrapped with enough ribbon to keep it in order and off the floor, but not so much as to keep it hidden. His expression is calm, and without comment, he goes to investigate the food.

Sideroom

[synergismus]

Just beyond the Public Room, there are a few smaller siderooms that some of the staff use for their lunchroom or for storing extra gardening equipment.

[wearyheadtorest]

So of course this is where Dean is. It's what he does--poke around, see what he can see. It's good to know if there are monsters lurking in the broom closets and where the weapons might be (and this is some serious intel he needs, considering this time--and how fucked up is it that he can say this time about this dimension-crossing being-shanghaied shit?--this time he wound up here sans Impala and therefore sans arsenal). He's just got the shit in his pockets and otherwise on his person, and that is not okay.

He closes a door, takes a breath, and begins mentally composing a journal entry as he pokes his head into another room.

Dear Sammy--Today I landed in Middle Earth. If you ever read this, shut the fuck up, it's not funny, dude.

At least there aren't cats this time.

This time.

Hallway

[synergismus]

There are all sorts of hallways throughout the Inn. Some of them are busy. Some of them are quiet. Some, like those leading into the workrooms, are closed for the day.

[anendofanera.livejournal.com]

After being locked up in a room for Christ only knew how long, which had logically probably only been a few hours but felt like an eternity, there was no way in hell Ashley was just going to go play nice nice with her 'cohort' just yet. First she was getting the lay of the land.

Considering no one seemed to be trying to stop her just yet, she wasn't bothering with stealth. Therefore there is a spandex clad and masked twenty something prowling unapologetically through the halls, a purple, empty quiver over one shoulder and a matching purple box clenched tightly in one white-knuckled hand. Occasionally she bites out bits of muttered conversation to herself.

"What the hell is this now."

[coffeeking]

Ianto was very unhappy, but with a side of hope. Being kidnapped had not been on his agenda for the night, but it could have been worse. He could have been taken by the rift and deposited god knows where. As it was, a proper kidnapping probably left a trace, a path to follow, and Ianto knew that if Jack could trace it, Jack would find him.

Unfortunately, there was no guarantee as to when. And in the meantime, Ianto wouldn't be found sitting around waiting for rescue like a damsel in distress. No, he'd be getting the lay of the land and looking for his own way out, thank you. With a little luck, maybe he'd find one and be home before Jack even knew he was missing.

With that buoyant thought in his head, Ianto walked down the hallway, his diary tucked safely under one arm.

Courtyard

[synergismus]

Visible through the windows of the dining hall, there's a neat little courtyard with a couple of planters and some benches. Should one look up, it's possible to see the various solarpower panels and small windmills dotting the roof of the Valhalla Inn.

[satrinah.livejournal.com]

This shit again, Lyla can't help thinking. It's differently organized, and the city's structure itself is different--it reminds her of something old world and Eastern European, even the Inn itself. She begs out of most of the dinner (she had, like, a sandwich, that counts, right?) and slinks into the courtyard to sit down on a bench, fishnet-clad legs crossed at the knee.

She lights up a cigarette, glad that her current pack made it through the dimensional trip with her.

If she's honest with herself, she misses her friends. Rather than look sad and petulant about it, though, she just exhales smoke up to the sky, hoping none of the employees at the Inn come in to chastise her.

[byrightsinhell]

Lucius is clearly looking for someone, though he doesn't seem to be panicked so much as resigned. He's not dressed at all like he'd choose normally, but he's charmed his hair back to blond and the wedding ring has gone back on his finger. He'd just have to cope with the jeans and the double layered t-shirts for now.

He pauses, in the courtyard, and does look up. He hasn't decided if this place is an improvement yet or not. He's inclined to think not, but he's trying to keep an open mind.

[primogen_vampirate]

Mina was feeling a bit overwhelmed, but in light of recent events, she was beginning to become accustomed to such a feeling. She bore it well as she dressed herself for the night. Thank God she had arrived wearing her favorite suit, the black pin stripped one with the purple tie and button down shirt. She arranged herself properly, tucking her hair up under her fedora and her necklace behind her tie. Last, she put on her rings, each on the proper finger. Looking at her blurry reflection in the mirror, she was satisfied.

And now, to the task of finding other Kindred. So far, Mina had not had good luck sensing anyone else with a predator's taint, but she was somewhat optimistic. After all, this was a big city, it seemed. Kindred liked the city. Well, except for some Gangrel, but that was another matter.

She made her way through the Inn, finding the courtyard quickly. It was refreshing to be outside. Her stuffy, basement room, while necessary, was not as ostentatious as she was accustomed to. Mina turned her face up to the sky. She immediately regretted that. As an old sailor, she was used to navigating by the stars. She didn't recognize a single one up there.

"Damn."

[patricide]

Lex wastes no time once the door is opened. He quickly breezes through the Inn like water rushing out of the floodgate. Doing his best to take note of the fixtures and layout of the place, he heads directly for the area with open air. There he may be better able to think and clear away the tension clouding his mind. Being somewhere new didn't mean that there had to be panic. It meant adaptation.

When he steps out into the grass Lex looks up into the sky as if in confirmation that where he stands is real. It's only when he hears footsteps behind him that he turns, keeping his face blank and careful not to give away how fast his thoughts had been racing just a second before.

[OOC: Lex and Adrian are both arriving in this thread. Feel free to threadjack!]

[truthsandlyres]

Apollo drummed his fingers against his arm, leaning against the wall as he observed the room around him. It was nothing short of remarkable how strange his life had become. Meeting up with Cassandra again? Strange, yes, but he had welcomed it enough that he was willing to look past the oddity of that situation. Being transferred between worlds? Unfortunate, but there was always the possibility that it was a dream. More likely, a test of some kind that he hadn't quite figured out yet how to pass.

But transferred again? Waking up how he had? Powers flickering like a dying torch? If there was some explanation behind all of this, Apollo had no idea where to find it. If it was all some kind of test, why had he been brought to yet another world? Was it connected with Willaknepp?

Sighing, he blew a piece of hair out of his face. Well, no sense in standing so far apart from the rest of them. Maybe one of them had a useful piece of information about this place.

Easing his face into a charming, lazy smile, Apollo unfolded his arms and began walking through the crowd, waiting for a conversation to strike.

[satrinah.livejournal.com]

One particular member of the new cohort is remarkably at ease--maybe it's her disaffected fishnets-and-combat-boots image, but she doesn't seem too fazed by any of this at all. Part of it is that Lyla's half-expecting to return to the city she was in before at any moment, like this is another one of that place's tricks, but otherwise, she's getting jaded to strange abductions. At least this doesn't appear dangerous right now.

So, when she interprets Apollo's smile and body language as meaning roughly the same thing--that he's not bothered by any of this--she stops and tilts her head at him. Her voice (complete with heavy Southern drawl, a touch roughened from smoking already, at eighteen) is mild when she speaks.

"Lot of fuss for all of us, isn't it? They must do this all the time."