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

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.

[gramarye]

Some people take their transition better than others; Wolfgang is not one of them. His life had been pretty ordinary up until now (more or less) and the sudden knowledge that there apparently existed other dimensions rattled him so badly. He hasn't even been sure that all of this is real and has been spending the entire time he's been here performing little tests, as if he can prove it to himself somehow, but with every one he still finds himself with doubts.

The last twenty-four hours have been hell on Earth. Or not, as it were.

He steps out into the courtyard, visibly shaking and looking worse for the wear, pausing just outside in the hopes that the fresh air will clear his head. It doesn't. It doesn't take him long to pick up the scent of secondhand smoke and he looks over in that direction automatically. "Did you get those here?" he asks, sounding surprised like it's so inconceivable that extradimensional alternate universes could contain something as mundane as cigarette vendors.

[satrinah.livejournal.com]

She eyes Wolfgang with a little muted concern--he doesn't look like he's adapting all that well, which she supposes to be expected. The fact that this isn't the first time Lyla's been abducted to a random city lends her a slightly jaded air, which she wears well.

"No, they came with. Thank fuck." She punctuates this by taking a drag, and then pats the stone expanse of the bench by her side. Lyla is tucked up on one edge and she's scrawny, there's plenty of room. "Sit down. You want one?"

[gramarye]

"--Oh, you're new here?" It's not a difficult inference to make; he assumed she isn't because she looks oddly calm about this. Maybe it's just him. It's probably just him.

He glances at the bench like, frankly, he's afraid it will bite him, which is a distinct possibility if it turns out he is dreaming, although death by chair would be a new one. He sits with visible relief -- Wolfgang is roughly the size of a fairy tale mutant beanstalk, but he is thankfully quite thin. While not normally a big smoker, he figures he could really use something to settle his nerves. "Ah -- yes. Please. If you don't mind."

[satrinah.livejournal.com]

Lyla hands one over, along with the necessary lighter (hers has a giant pentagram on it...). She watches Wolfgang's expression, hers lightly sympathetic--not too invested, because there's nothing weirder than a stranger getting all caring at you out of the blue, in her experience, but friendly.

"It'll be okay, you know. I've done this before. It's always a big ol' mindfuck at first, but then, like..." There's a tiny shrug. "People settle down."

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Having explored around the inside of the Inn, Hellboy makes his way out to the courtyard. Partially, this is because he wants to be thorough, but also it's that he wants to get a smoke in, and he doesn't want to take any chances with how the staff might take indoor smoking. Since it seems appropriate, he fishes one of the cigars he'd gotten back in Bete Noire for special occasions, cutting its tip with his knife and lighting it up with a wooden match struck off of his Right Hand.

It's only once he's got the cigar lit, glowing in the evening air, that he notices Lyla. He tries to be nonchalant and not stare, but he side-eyes her curiously all the same. Only once he's at least moderately sure does he finally turn and address her directly.

"Hey. Sorry to bother you, but you look familiar."

[satrinah.livejournal.com]

Holy fuck, there's a giant red dude with a cigar. She tilts her head to the side, squinting at Hellboy just a little. Well, she's seen weirder, and she appreciates fellow nicotine addicts.

"You don't. And, uh, I think I'd remember..." But she can get a magical vibe of some kind off him, and that is relevant to her interests by a lot. "Where'd you live at before here?"

She just assumes they'll be sticking around for a while. It's how it goes, right?

[hehaseatenthepancake]

"Huh. Maybe not, then." He'd assumed that whoever he'd seen around Hell House had probably seen him too, but then he also sometimes seemed to pass oddly without much notice.

"I spent about a month in a different kidnap city, called Bete Noire. Before that, back in my own world, I'd been... traveling. Long story." He extends his left hand. "Name's Hellboy."

[satrinah.livejournal.com]

"No shit? I came from there, too." To be fair, whenever he saw Lyla, she was probably looking hungover or in a k-hole. Her coping mechanisms got a little strange, in Bete Noire, not that they're likely to be markedly superior in Baedal.

"Lyla. Sick name." That's...sick in a good way, Hellboy, she's like that. Handshakes ensue!

[suninhades]

It's late by the time Integra gets to the Inn - it was already late when she left Dean at the Hall, and Mogg Hill isn't just next door. But the walk and quick train ride has calmed her nerves, at least, so when she comes up the walk to pull the main door open, she's actually just walking and not storming about with hellfire at her heels. (Only people who know who she is 'eep' out of her way, now, versus ... everyone with eyes.)

She'll check the front desk to see if Lyla's stayed put, for starters, though the thought of her tucked away peacefully in bed is admittedly ludicrous.

[satrinah.livejournal.com]

Lyla has remained in the Inn, but is being chased out of a hallway by a weary-looking staff member, presently, with a cigarette in her hand.

"I didn't even burn anything," she protests, but she stops in her tracks when she sees Integra. And she grins, too, obviously pleased.

"...holy fuck, hey!"

[suninhades]

Oh. Good.

Typically stoic, Integra's version of "relieved and happy" is notably milder than another person's would be, but it's still there. She sends a sharp look at the staff member. "You've hosted entire beings on fire before," she says, and quite suddenly, the two women are alone. She refrains from rolling her eyes as she steps closer, but only barely.

"All right?" She looks like she's in one piece, at least.

[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.

[pureandstrange.livejournal.com]

There was a man at dinner who greatly resembled Lucius Malfoy, but was not dressed as Lucius would and showed no recognition of Rodolphus when he passed. Now there's this guy, who clearly isn't Malfoy either. Rodolphus spares a few moments to wonder if this is some kind of dream and if it is, why he's so fixated on Lucius Malfoy. The alternative appears to be that an entire other universe is fond of Malfoy's face.

He himself has stuck to the open robe over a formal suit combination, because he only arrived today, and he doesn't stare or otherwise react oddly to Not Lucius number two; he only pauses to examine some of the vegetation in a planter, idly curious in a deadened sort of way.

[byrightsinhell]

Lucius, for his part, stops. After Rosier and Regulus, he supposes he should have been prepared, but he still can't really help being mildly startled to see Rodolphus there, of all places.

"...Lestrange?" he asks, not entirely willing to trust it just yet. The last time he'd seen Rodolphus had been the night that the Longbottoms had been tortured out of sanity. It made an impression.

[pureandstrange.livejournal.com]

His gaze lifts unhurriedly from the flowers, hollow-eyed reassessment bringing some life to his expression. He definitely looks like a man who's been through years of Azkaban, though he wasn't exactly handsome to begin with.

The strange attire doesn't register as anything more than a superficial oddity. If this is Malfoy, then he must have been here longer, and be (as he himself is) without the means to dress as he normally would. In response, Rodolphus rolls up enough of his sleeve to reveal the beginning of the scar where the dark mark once was. There's something almost charmingly outre about it all, to be so open about it because it means nothing here.

[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."

[bhishani.livejournal.com]

"Don't care for the view?"

The question comes from a young woman perched on the edge of a planter. She had been very quiet until that moment, perhaps unnaturally so, watching Mina with a careful eye. Sita isn't anyone's Kindred, and neither is Mina exactly what she expects – the scent is wrong, her kin smell of snake venom and dust – but something about Mina puts her on edge nonetheless. She's run into a few non-humans already, but this is different. Subtler.

Curious.

Though she doesn't move, she is on her guard.

[primogen_vampirate]

Mina glanced around at the voice. She politely lifted a finger to the brim of her fedora, tipping it like a gentleman would. "I don't recognize any of the stars," she replied cautiously. So much time living among Kindred had taught her to be guarded, but what could she possibly have revealed in that, other than homesickness. And everyone must have been feeling that.

"And you are?"

At least this would be interesting.

[bhishani.livejournal.com]

"Neither do I," she muses, like there's the slightest inside joke in that admission. But the subject seems to relax her a little. (Not completely, but a little.)

"Alisa." She hops off the planter and offers a handshake. Her own is warm, a completely human temperature, but if Mina has a sense for blood types, it's clear Sita's is anything but normal. "Did you just arrive?"

[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!]

[defenestration]

It's one thing to isolate oneself for a reason, and quite another to be unceremoniously lifted from one's home and deposited in a strange room in a strange city, with no apparent way out. Much longer and Adrian would have lost his patience for waiting.

However it turns out extreme measures won't be necessary, and the moment he's able, Adrian heads for an exterior door. He'll take stock of things once he has at least the illusion of freedom.

Those thoughts take a back seat when he sees the familiar form in front of him, and he hastens to catch up, speaking just as the man turns. "Lex. What in god's name is this about?"

It's not an accusation, just an expression of hope that the other will know more about what's going on.

[patricide]

The face and the voice that goes with it are the last things that Lex had expected to hear. He allows the tightness in his face to slacken and he looks at Adrian with a mix of confusion and relief.

"Mr. Veidt?" Of course it was Adrian Veidt. Shock was no excuse for displaying oneself poorly.

"I only know what was written in the pamphlet. Did you receive one too?"

[defenestration]

A familiar face makes things more bearable, and a familiar face he knows can offer intelligent insight, doubly so.

"I did, but it didn't do much to explain the hows or whys of our situation. Is this your first time out of the room?"