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

[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."

[gramarye]

"Thank you." He manages to light it even with his shaking hands, then passes her back the lighter (not commenting on the design, although that's... Lyla, why even) and pulling from the cigarette. He coughs once, indicating inexperience, but it does help a little, even if it's only in the mundaneness of it.

He pauses before he speaks, like he's processing what she just said, and: "I -- does this happen often?" He sounds incredibly alarmed.

[satrinah.livejournal.com]

"Just to me, apparently." She gives a little shrug that's more nonchalant than she really is, deep down--but the image suits her to project. Besides, maybe it'll be reassuring to this guy.

"Usually it's not this organized. I'm kind of impressed, actually."

[gramarye]

"That's terrible luck. I'm sorry." He sounds like he means it, too; he can't imagine how horrifying it would be to have this happen more than once... how could you ever feel safe, not sure how long you'd ever be in one place?

"They did seem pretty -- pretty streamlined." Also a little callous, but he's being generous in assuming it must get tired explaining this insane situation to people disinclined to believe it over and over. But. "It's different other places?"

[satrinah.livejournal.com]

"I think so. I mean, this place feels real different?" She doesn't know how to explain it without sounding crazy, so she decides to leave it like that. It just sounds like gut instinct that way. "But I ain't sure yet. I'll have to look around."