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

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."

[pureandstrange.livejournal.com]

While Ashley's attire strikes him as outlandish, it therefore fits in with the entire rest of the setting, which is in Rodolphus' mind entirely foreign. There are familiar parts, but they are just enough to make things surreal, not comfortable. Then again, nothing has been comfortable for many years now, so in the end he's subsisting much as he has been.

He himself doesn't fit in, he would acknowledge, if he stopped to think about it; the rather Victorian suit and dark robe he wears open over it definitely hail from a different world.

As Ashley is recognizably female, he courteously moves closer to the window to let her pass by unobstructed, but says nothing, and doesn't stare. At her, anyway, he's definitely staring out the window. There's nothing particularly interesting going on out there.

[anendofanera.livejournal.com]

The man does drawn her attention for a moment. Not because he moved, she expected people to do that, or even because of his get up at first, but because he looked away. Ashley paused to follow his gaze at the window for a moment, concerned something of interest or, more importantly, of potential danger might actually be happening. Anything outside of this messed up parody of normalcy they were trying to create here would be aces in her book at the moment.

But no, nothing. Ashley turned her gaze from the window to the man, looking him up and down for a moment before speaking.

"Something I'm missin'?"

[pureandstrange.livejournal.com]

"Possible," he answers, and while it isn't lighthearted there's an element of apathy which may go far in demonstrating he's just a weirdo who stares out of windows. "What do you see?"

The prospect of conversation is both tempting and a little tiring. What does Rodolphus have to talk about anymore? At the same time, he's not about to lie down and die, so he might as well suck it up and socialize.

[anendofanera.livejournal.com]

"A waste of time trying to upgrade to a poor man's philosopher."

Ashley shook her head with a short, slightly aggravated sigh. This morning she'd been a Kingpin. Tonight she was snapping at a Goodwill reject in a different dimension. That pathetic part being she officially didn't have much better to do with her time until she got her bearings. There was life for you.

[pureandstrange.livejournal.com]

All he does is make a little 'on your way' gesture, an ironic and polite invitation that showcases little disturbance in response to her criticism. He hasn't had much to do with Americans, let alone Americans who go about masked like that, so he'll just assume their ways are strange.

[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.

[51stcentury]

Jack had wandered away from the areas where all the others were, not really grown tired of the mingling so much as the idea that he still had really no idea where 'here' was, exactly. It probably would have helped if he'd read the pamphlet, but someone should be good enough to explain it to him and therefore bypass the need to read it at all, right?

He couldn't help thinking that there was something odd in the fact that they all seemed to be pulled there from, what. Different universes? Dimensions? The rift certainly didn't pull people from different dimensions such as that, and generally wasn't as gentle in placing them where it left them as it had been. So lost in thought was he that he wasn't particularly paying attention as he rounded a corner and ran smack into the man coming at him from the opposite direction.

"Whoa, sorry, didn't see you there," he said, reaching out to brace the other and plastering a pleasant smile on his face, one that lasted for about two seconds until he realized exactly who it was that he'd almost bowled over. "...Ianto?"

[coffeeking]

Ianto was annoyed enough at life, Baedal, and everything right now that when someone ran into him rounding a corner, he was fully prepared to be perfectly rude about it and snap at them to watch where they were going. But then hew knew the hands on him, knew that voice, and saw Jack.

"Jack!" He couldn't help but sound relieved, his hands going up automatically to grasp onto his Captain. "You're here! But how--"

He'd been about to ask how Jack found him so quickly when it sunk in that Jack's behavior wasn't the behavior of someone who was expecting to see him, much less someone who was looking for him.

[51stcentury]

Jack's smile faltered a little as Ianto cut himself off, not knowing exactly where Ianto was going with that comment but knowing that the other man had realized something that he'd changed his mind about whatever it was that he was saying. On one hand, he was happy that Ianto was there with him. On the other hand, he hadn't figured out where there was, and. Maybe this place was dangerous, and if so he couldn't in his right mind be happy that Ianto was there.

"I went through a doorway in the sewers, and suddenly I was here." He paused for a moment, before a thought came to him. "You did just come from Weevil hunting with me, right? Like. Actually Weevil hunting, rather than what we both know we'd have rather been doing."

[coffeeking]

The fear Ianto had earlier been trying so hard to mask beneath anger came back to him at the realization that Jack wasn't here to rescue him at all. They'd both been kidnapped. Brilliant. But at least he wouldn't have to go this alone, and that was an utter relief.

He nodded. "I was in the SUV. One second I was monitoring your location, and the next I was in one of the rooms here. Can you believe this?! Do they really expect us to just say, 'Oh, that's alright then, glad to be here. We'll just get a job and settle in like good little citizens!' And they had my diary...!" He brought the diary up to show Jack, the look on his face one of outraged offense. He was working under the assumption that Jack had read the pamphlet as well, which he would soon recall to be contradictory to Jack's personal style of jumping in head first.

[51stcentury]

Jack's eyebrows furrow. "...is that what they expect us to do? Accept that we're stuck here and set up camp?" Obviously, Jack was not a manual reading sort. He glanced at the diary that Ianto raised up to show him. "Tell you what, the more I find out about this place, the more I'm not liking it. Are you telling me that you weren't even going anywhere, you just blinked and showed up here, in a completely different place from where you were before?" Jack at least had made the action of stepping into the other place, but. If it'd stolen Ianto...

He gave him a once over, unconsciously keeping the hand that he'd brought out to brace Ianto from toppling over on his shoulder as he did so. "Are you alright? They haven't done anything to you, have they?"

[coffeeking]

"I'm fine, Jack," he sought to reassure immediately, squeezing Jack's arm lightly where he held him. "I didn't even feel anything. Like you said, I blinked and I was standing in that room. If anything more was involved, I don't remember it."

It was entirely possible they'd dragged Ianto physically out of the SUV, forced him to retrieve his diary, given him some form of retcon and tossed him in that room, but somehow this struck Ianto as a rather more subtle and elegant operation.

"You didn't read the pamphlet, did you?" He eyed Jack with long-suffering resignation. Honestly, it was just like him.

[51stcentury]

Jack shot Ianto a look that clearly said something along the lines of, 'why are you even asking me that question, you already know the answer.'

"So you ended up in this place and then they led you here and told you to stay in your room and that dinner would be ready?" Jack said, continuing on without actually answering Ianto aloud there. He needed to be sure, that what was happening for him was happening for Ianto as well. Maybe... Maybe he was hallucinating all of this? It wasn't really likely, but it was possible, after all.

[coffeeking]

"That's the gist of it," Ianto replied succinctly. "And you should read the pamphlet, Jack. It's like one of our tourist pamphlets, only with more condescension and it doesn't want you to know where the airport is." A pause. "Or I could summarize, if you like."

Because Ianto knows a lost cause when he's heading right toward one.

[51stcentury]

Jack shook his head, cocking a wry smile at the other man. "Why would I ever read the pamphlet, especially now that I've got you around to explain what it says for me?" he said, in response to Ianto's suggestion that he read it. "Go ahead, summarize away. I'll probably get it better this way anyway. Never really was much for reading, anyway." Well. That was a lie. He read things that he wanted to read, but why read when you could explore, after all.

[cassie_of_troy]

Cassandra had had her fill of crowds for the night. It was always oppressive to be confined with so many people. Which was funny, considering the fact that she had grown up in a harem. But then again, by the age of fourteen, she had been practically a leper to the rest of her family. Cassandra had always had her privacy and room to breathe, when she needed it. So she could be grateful to have her own room now.

She was on her way back to the room now, muttering to herself. She was listing the names of all the people she had known in Willaknapp, to remind herself, to keep her sanity, fragile though it was, within her grasp. "Anathema," she chanted quietly. "Bret. Arthur. The other Arthur. Bonnie. Damon."

How mad she must have seen!

She turned a corner and stopped dead in her steps. "Ianto?" It was only too late she realized she had said it aloud. And she knew, almost immediately, that she would only be disappointed. What were the chances that he would remember her? After what had happened in Willaknapp, slim to none.

Still, it was somewhat pleasant to see a familiar face.

[coffeeking]

"Yes...?" Ianto stopped, looking at the woman who had just called him by name, trying to place her face. She knew him, but no matter how he wracked his brain, he couldn't place her. A lovely woman like her, surely he'd remember? She wasn't anyone he knew in Cardiff, not one of the other survivors from Torchwood One, not the girl at the coffee shop or the pizza place or the Indian takeout delivery girl. He thought back to his childhood, to the other children at school, the ones in his neighborhood.

Nothing. Oh, this was going to be upsetting somehow, he knew it already.

"I'm sorry, I don't recall... How do you know me?" At least he sounded genuinely regretful, because he was. This sort of thing was always awkward.

[cassie_of_troy]

Of course he didn't remember her.

Cassandra couldn't help but laugh. And her laugh was not a pleasant sound. It wasn't the tinkling of bells or a low rumble like thunder. No, her laugh was a short explosion and then silence. It wasn't filled with mirth or humor. It was a laugh of pain.

This had to be some kind of cruel joke, but just who was playing the joke on Cassandra, she couldn't say. Under normal circumstances, she could have blamed Apollo. But these weren't normal circumstances.

"You're Ianto Jones," she said, her eyes, dark and wide as black holes, fixed on his oh-so-familiar face. "You're Welsh and you enjoy coffee and you're hopelessly devoted to Jack Harkness. Is Jack here too? Please tell me he isn't, I just can't handle that right now." She smiled a smile that did not reach her eyes. "And when I tell you who I am, you're immediately going to start telling me my own life's story, like you've done the last two times we've met. But you wouldn't remember, because it didn't happen to you, it happened to another version of you. Two other versions, really."

She sounded mad. She knew it. She didn't care.

[coffeeking]

Ianto didn't know whether to step back in caution at that laugh, or step forward to offer comfort. He stayed exactly where he was, tense and reserved, until she spoke and his eyes widened. He felt himself blush at her declaration that he was 'hopelessly devoted' to Jack, though it was true, and he frankly didn't know what to say to any of it. He gaped for a moment before he swallowed and found his voice.

"Alright, how about this? You tell me who you are, and I won't tell you a thing about your life. It doesn't matter anyway, if some version of me has done it twice already, yeah?" He didn't say a thing about Jack being around. She gave every indication that she had no love for Jack, and she seemed unhinged enough as it was. Not that he could blame her, under the circumstances.

[cassie_of_troy]

Truthfully, Cassandra had stopped caring long ago about Ianto's--or rather, the previous two Iantos--blundering attempts to tell her about her own life. It was sort of amusing, in retrospect. But she couldn't help but appreciate this Ianto's diplomacy. Perhaps, she reasoned, she had come upon a slightly younger, less jaded version. That idea had some appeal, actually. After getting used to the previous Iantos, she almost liked them. Maybe a little less sarcasm and moping would make a difference.

"My name is Cassandra," she said bluntly. "I come from a city west of the Persian Empire called Troy." There, she had said it. "It doesn't exist in your time. You come from a good three thousand years after me. But we've met, twice." Her dark eyes flashed up at him again. "Yes. I am that Cassandra."

[coffeeking]

Ianto had the absurd feeling that he needed to sit down. This was a little much, really. Being kidnapped into some kind of prison-city was something he could deal with. He worked for Torchwood, after all, and one had to expect that they could at some point be taken by the rift, or held captive, or both. It wasn't pleasant, but he could man up and deal. But to then run into someone who knew him from two separate alternate realities, only to discover that she was the true and actual Cassandra of Troy... Well. Ianto was really beginning to think he ought to hole up in his room for a while.

"Right. Cassandra. Hello." In retrospect, awkward had been an understatement. "I don't suppose any introductions are necessary on my end. You know Jack as well, then?"

[cassie_of_troy]

Ianto was dealing with this curiously. Cassandra definitely wanted to know this version better. Three whole minutes of conversation and not a snide remark or aside. She found herself letting go of a breath she had been unconsciously holding. Out of respect for him, she decided, she would try to dial back the madness as much as she could.

"Yes," she said in a calmer tone of voice. "I know Jack. Two different versions of him. One charming and insincere, the other somewhat...reclusive. I liked that second one better. Far more honest and forthright." Not to mention the fact that the second version had been the only version to show even the remotest spark of human compassion.

"About two years ago I was abducted to a place called Rowan," she explained quietly. "Along with several dozen other people like myself known as worldwalkers. Jack was our appointed leader in that world. You were his secretary. Then, about a year ago, I was taken to another world called Willaknapp. That was the world in which he was the recluse." She paused, wondering if she ought to share the next part. But being Cassandra, she was painfully honest. "You wanted nothing to do with him there."

She paused again. "This is a lot of information." Another mad laugh. They were like hiccups sometimes. She couldn't stop them. "Then again, you are one of the smartest people I've ever met."

[coffeeking]

This Ianto still does snide remarks and asides, but he isn't feeling very snarky right now. He's feeling out of his depth, which is really rather remarkable, considering.

"I-- Thank you?" She was complimenting him, but she still seemed half-mad, despite making perfect sense. Well, sort of perfect sense. Perfect sense for people whose lives aren't remotely normal in the first place. He could even imagine a world in which he wanted nothing to do with Jack, if things had gone differently, if Jack were a different person. But he wouldn't dwell on it. It wasn't him or his world, and he had too many other things to worry about right now to dwell on alternate realities.

"Look, I've only just been getting used to the whole being abducted thing. Jack is here, he was taken the same time I was, but it doesn't sound like the Jacks you knew are quite like him. For that matter, I may not be quite like the other Iantos. Can we maybe just forget about them for now and have a fresh start?"