a gent of good intent who's content to be ( OPEN )

[checkingin]

Who: Everyone!
Where: The initial arrival rooms, the main lobby, all over the place.
When: March 3rd
What: Welcome, newbies.

ARRIVAL.

you wake up when you hit the floor in a dark room, and the air is knocked out of your lungs. the carpet is threadbare, worn with use, kind of dusty. and you're not the first person to endure this crash landing. nor will you be the last.

once your vision rights itself, you can see the well-lit hallway through the doorjam straight ahead of you. not to say there’s monsters in the shadows, but something propels you towards that door and out into the bright hallway beyond.

and once outside your room, you can hear it: the steady thrum of rain outside.

MAIN LOBBY.

there's a staircase at the end of the lengthy hallway you tumble out of. grab your suitcase and follow the dull green exit signs on the ceiling until you reach the disappointingly bland stairs that lead you down to the ornate old fashion hotel lobby.

to your left is a warmly crackling fireplace, to your right is a lobby desk. straight ahead are three large sets of doors, though only one of them is open to the public. and outside the few (curtained, permanently dark) windows is the continually steady hiss of rain. once you leave the hallway you wake up in, you won't be able to return.

welcome to the hotel.

FRONT DESK.

though there is a bell and a plaque designating the desk to be the main desk, the customer service desk, there are currently no staff members behind it. none shall answer your calls, either.

terribly sorry for the inconvenience.

SCREENING ROOM.

on a long pull-down screen, a silent version of the phantom carriage will be playing on loop. at the back of the room, between the neat rows of fold out chairs, mounted on a wobbly table is the old-timey projector, and mounted on the walls are some rather old speakers that warble out "terrifying" old music.

along the curtained windows is another long table, with a large bowl of popcorn and a large hot drink dispenser full of hot water, but without any tea or hot chocolate packets around.

OTHER.

the ballroom is currently closed, and the grand doors locked.

there is no main door leading to the outside, good luck trying to find one.

the doors to the courtyard and breakfast hall are unlocked, but looks like you've missed the morning meal. sucks for you.

ROOMS.

you've a room key with your assigned room number on it. all the new guest residences will be located on floors three and four. while there is an open elevator in the main lobby, and the buttons light up inside, the doors will not close. all in all, you'll be better off taking the stairs.

while they're the same stairs you undoubtedly came down to get to the lobby, the door to the endless hall everyone woke up in will not reappear between the main floor and the subsequent residential halls.

there are twenty rooms per floor. feel free to get to know your surroundings; or your neighbors as they trickle in around you.

EXISTING GUESTS.

it's late when the newcomers arrive, there's a good chance you'd been about to go to sleep (or just waking up, who knows, your mom's not here to tell you when to go to bed or get up). but if you're paying attention, you might hear the hustle and bustle in the lobby below; or maybe you're just drawn there because your gut told you to go join the commotion. whatever the case may be, go mingle!

Comments

[youcantransform]

"If I had, we'd still be having words," Harry says dryly.

He extends a hand. (There's a faint tremor in his fingertips.)

"Harry Hart. You're newly arrived?"

[usernamesarecool]

The Doctor takes note of the tremor but says nothing as he reaches forward to shake the man's hand. Definitely not the sort you'd usually find kidnaped.

"Yeah. Woke up in a darken room and found my way here-I'm the Doctor." He introduces himself. "Just the Doctor."

[youcantransform]

Harry's in no position to begrudge the man that, when he's been running around under the moniker of Galahad for over thirty years.

"It's a pleasure, Doctor. You may have to forgive my declining faculties, but did you say 'travelling in time and space'?"

[usernamesarecool]

"Time and space. That's right." The Doctor confirms with a slight nod. "Bit difficult to explain but essentially I have a time machine slash space ship. Looking for her now actually."

He glances about the room again and frowns at the fact she hasn't miraculously appeared. "You haven't seen a blue police box around, have you?"

[youcantransform]

He has to sweep that into the almost unmanageably large pile of things he can't properly address. Either his new friend is mentally ill, or his world is about to expand exponentially. Either way, attempting to challenge his worldview won't get them anywhere.

"I haven't." He remembers the type from his childhood. "Where have you come here from? And - when, I suppose I'd ought to ask."

[usernamesarecool]

"You adapt quickly." He says approvingly. "Actually, I was only my way to swing by a place I can get the best hamburger in the universe-was gonna get one for my friend but instead I wound up here with no hamburger and now no ship. Not a good day all things considered."

He's not about to tell a perfect stranger exactly where he comes from, he's not that open and it's hardly important given the situation.

"Anyways, you're very calm from someone that's been kidnapped. Any reason for that?"

[youcantransform]

It isn't calm he's projecting so much as just stillness. There's something brittle about it - a man putting up a front, projecting an image. Behind that is blind bloody horror, and behind that is the real Harry Hart. Who honestly isn't faring much better, but he can deal with that later. Walking wounded isn't a novelty to him.

(Later is picking up the tab for far too many matters, at the moment.)

"If I thought tearing my hair and rending my garments would help, I'd be doing it," he says quietly, but what he's actually articulating is that he's been brought up in an environment of total emotional suppression and he's not in a situation where he knows what response would be appropriate.