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.

[hurricane-james.livejournal.com]

It wasn't so long ago that he came through the arrival room and Norrington is still a little uncomfortable attending the first night of a new cohort. Not just because it means that more people have been taken from their lives and brought into this city, but because it brings back too many memories of being starched and pressed in a stifling ballroom.

"If they don't have anything to your taste, there is a public library, but they do charge for a membership," he says mildly. Norrington hopes that Hellboy doesn't mind the intrusion, but it is his duty to be here and introduce himself to the locals.

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Hellboy glances over at Norrington quickly, just to make sure that he was actually the one being addressed, then resumes looking at the shelves. "Hm. Well, I may get to that eventually, but I seem to be starting off okay here." His eyes narrow and he mutters half to himself, "Tom Swift and his Shining Trapezohedron?! I don't remember that one."

Shaking his head, he pulls himself away and turns to Norrington. "Sorry. I can look at that more later. Name's Hellboy." He extends his left hand for shaking, for presumably obvious reasons.

[anendofanera.livejournal.com]

"Disgustingly domestic set up for they've got goin' for a gang of kidnappers. Or whatever the hell this is."

Ashley flicked the spine of a random book with one finger and gave a dismissive scoff. She wasn't happy with the current set up by any stretch, but she was willing to bet the normal laws of her world applied here, too. The big, scary looking guy was usually one you wanted to be on decent terms with from the get-go.

[hehaseatenthepancake]

"It is pretty efficient, I've got to admit. Last city I got kidnapped into, I showed up in the nearby forest. Had to get all the basic info by calling the party line."

Having completed a tour of the room, he looked over at Ashley and took in her attire. Lacking any other idea of what she could be in that getup, he asks, "You in the lucha biz or something?"

[bhishani.livejournal.com]

Sita has been wandering, too. It settles her to get a lay of the land. Not that she was panicking – she dropped that act as soon as she had a room to herself, and what echos of it were real she'll deal with when she has real privacy again. First, she wants to know her exits.

But Hellboy catches her attention. (Can't imagine why.)

"Find anything good?" asks the tiny brunette, leaning a shoulder against the book case.

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Hellboy is an entirely unremarkable figure. Uh-huh.

"Oh, a few things I'll get to when there isn't a party on," he says, tapping at his chin with his Right Hand. "There's some that look like they're local, but the Sheriff mentioned that they get stuff from all sorts of different worlds, and from what I've seen, I'm inclined to believe him. Hellboy," he adds as introduction, offering his left hand.

[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.

[andbreathes]

With two years in Baedal under her belt, Dominica has a good eye for the newcomers- particularly those who, like Wolfgang, seem a little more in need of someone to smooth the way than others. That's what she's here for, she figures, if in a slightly less official capacity than her oh-so-law-abiding husband, so she stops beside him (not too close, not too quiet, and she doesn't touch him unexpectedly) with a peacefully inquisitive smile.

"How're we doing over here?"

[gramarye]

He jumps when he's addressed, which he's not entirely proud of -- what he wouldn't give for a Valium right now. He settles when he sees it's a woman and not a hideous flesh-eating monster (not gonna lie, he wouldn't be surprised) and offers her a tight, strained smile. "Oh, I'm fine, thank you."

It is so clearly untrue it's almost hilarious.

[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?"

[gramarye]

It was helping to see that he wasn't the only one who was having a hard time adjusting to ... this. Wolfgang noticed her come in, the look on her face familiar to him; he looked about as out of sorts as she did, although at least having been down here a little longer had enabled much of the shock to wear off. It was still plenty shocking, though -- he swore he'd seen some huge red guy wandering around. Then again, that could be any number of things, and it only occurred to him now that his meds were in his messenger bag... on the floor of his apartment... in Izmir.

Fuck.

He'd worry about it later; for now it was best to take things one thing at a time. One person at a time, maybe. He offered her a smile, slightly concerned and very sympathetic. "Are you all right?"

[cassie_of_troy]

Cassandra looked up. Someone was speaking to her. She laughed. It was a mirthless laugh, an empty, hollow laugh. Was she all right? That was a question! But laughing was inappropriate in these sorts of situations, wasn't it? Wasn't it? Yes, yes, she was quite certain she remembered something to that extent.

"What is that expression? Third time is the charm?" She couldn't quite remember where she had heard that one. "Is that from Rowan? Or Willaknapp? Or is it from earth's future, three thousand years after me? I can't remember."

She swept a hand through her wild curls. It was important to keep it together. She had to regain some semblance of calm. Cassandra turned to catch his eyes. Hers were dark and wide, like black holes. "What's your name?" she asked.

[truthsandlyres]

When Apollo saw the back of Cassandra's head, he knew who she was in a moment. He knew those curls. Those untamed, wild, wonderful curls. Without preamble, he crossed the room.

Things could have been worse after all. He didn't have to face her disappearance a second time.

"Cassandra," he spoke, stepping in close behind her.

[cassie_of_troy]

Cassandra whirled around at that. If she were blind, she would have known who that was.

And yet...

Well, her experience with Bret and Ianto and Jack had taught her not to assume anything. For all she knew, this was the same Apollo who had told her two days ago that he was going to condemn Othryoneus to Tartarus. She had to find a way to make sure who he was.

"Have you seen any ghost turkeys?" she asked.

Perhaps not the most coherent test, but Cassandra wasn't exactly operating at full mental capacity right now.

[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?

[anendofanera.livejournal.com]

Ashley had pulled off the mask a while ago, but still remained in the spandex tank and leggings. She'd given up trying to find anything productive in the building, and was more leaning against the wall and alternating between passively taking in the scene and outright glaring at the people who came by. Who was to know which were like her and which were the ones to drag them in, after all? Anyone could be anyone here, she didn't have a single lick of info to work it out on her own.

The most recent arrival at least looked as lost as a new comer should be, at least. Not that appearances meant much, but desperate times came with their own measures. She gave a half smile and a nod as his gaze swept passed her.

[51stcentury]

Jack smiled back, taking the smile and nod as an invitation to make his way over to talk to her. "Hey," he said, laying on the charm. "Don't suppose you know what the hell is going on here, do you? Nice look, by the way," he added, flashing an appreciative smile at her spandex tank and leggings. "You wear it well." Just because he was trying to gleam information about their surroundings didn't mean that he couldn't flirt. In fact, he'd found that flirting usually even upped his chances of getting information, after all.

[primogen_vampirate]

Mina immediately hate the inn. It wasn't so much what it represented (separation from home, from family, from the people she knew and needed) as it was that everything about it was hauntingly familiar. She and Tom had owned a inn such as this. Not of the world-snatching variety, but of the warm, friendly variety, filled with common spaces and boisterous talking and all that other nonsense.

She didn't want to think about Tom.

Ever again.

She decided it would be best to make a quick escape and now that the sun had mercifully set, she was on her way out. Yet, as she crossed the common room, she noticed him. It seemed impossible not to notice him really. There was just something...she couldn't put words to it. It wasn't predator's taint. He was no Kindred. But she couldn't help but stop to stare.

Which was ironic, since she was usually the one being stared at. After all, it wasn't every day you saw a woman in a pin-striped suit and fedora. At least not in 1930s Chicago.

[gotbottle]

The room is nice. The inn is nice, the people are nice, it's all nice.

It's just not where she wants to be. Not where she was planning on being at any point but she didn't exactly get a say in the matter, just a brochure to explain it all. Except not really.

So she's stiff-upper-lipping it for all she's worth at the far end of the room when the gentleman in what looks like military garb strides in. There's an air of authority about this guy so she figures, can't hurt to ask, right?

"Excuse me." Rachel moves to intercept him, offering a faint but entirely polite smile. "I'm new here. Can you tell me what's going on?"

[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?"

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

The nearest person may or may not be Mrs. Savitri. The nearest person may in fact have been gently shunted aside by her. Either case, here she is in all her proprietorial glory, prepared to get a handle on things. "Sir. Can I help you?"

[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.

[nojudge.livejournal.com]

Did you want a six-foot-tall leather-clad pirate nearly barreling into you, Adrian? Well you get one. Balthier zoomed down the stairs and around a corner so quickly, busy reading his CiD, that he didn't immediately cotton on to somebody being in front of him - but at the last second he sidesteps artfully, with the nimble air of someone who's used to navigating under pressure.

"-Pardon," he says, looking up from the device, cultured accent apparent even from that brief word, slightly apologetic smile on his face. He glances at the other man's attire, trying to place it. Earth clothes? Oh, sigh.