strangetrip | [EP/GP] Check-In: I Assure You We Are Open

The damp, cool, chilly morning clouded with fog seemed to fit the mood about the Madonna Inn. Nobody had been quite right since the undead invasion. Definitely not Vax'ildan. But for him, it was less about their sense of day-to-day calm and safety shattered, less about undead specifically. It was a lot more to do with losing Scanlan and Pike, and the new memorials installed in the Temple.

He wondered about it, not for the first time, even as he readied for the fresh arrivals that might be coming today - or not, because they didn't always. What decided who came and went? Was there any sense in how many and when or why? Not so far as he could tell, but he'd never been the brains.

Gathering up the great heap of cloth and rope in his arms, the lean figure summoned the wings of his armor, the black of his silhouette merging with the other dark and shifting shapes skulking about in the first light of dawn. With a crouch and a lunge from the roof, he spread his wings wide and circled through the air right up to the face of the main building, unfurling the massive banner he'd sewn of spare bedsheets and painted with dark dye to tie it up taut:

WELCOME NEWCOMERS
YES, THIS MEANS YOU
NO REALLY WE'RE SURE

Life kept going on around you, no matter how confused or scared or fucked-up you were. And the best thing, the kindest thing, the sanest thing he could think to do in all this was to start up the coffee machine, stack some decorated pumpkin-shaped cookies on a platter in the lobby, and prop open the doors for whoever would join them in being confused and scared and fucked-up today.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jackson nodded, as he took from one last drag from his cigarette. "Virginia, myself. There's a fair few of us." He dropped the butt to the ground, toeing it out under his boot. "Not all of us from the same time period, mind you. 1890s," he added, before O'Neill had to ask.

He raised his eyebrows. So, that answered that question. Jack didn't necessarily looked shocked rather than more 'oh, that's interesting'.

"2001 for me, so, I'm a little ahead of you, I suppose." He offered a small smile. "Though, don't worry. You don't look a year over 1899"

Jackson brought two fingers to his hat in an amused little salute at that quip. "Glad to hear it." He nodded in the direction of the main building. "You got yourself all situated yet? Gotten a room and all?"

"Not yet. Was on my way inside to find out how bad my room is. I heard they can be a doozy." Jack liked to think he had been through some of the worst, but maybe the inn would surprise him.

"How's your set up?"

"'Pioneer America'," Jackson replied with a small smile. "I mean, it's less bewilderin' than the rest of this place, anyway. Come on, then," he invited O'Neill, before starting walking in the direction of the inn. "I could use a drink, and the bar's in there, too."

He followed. "I do like drinks." He had to wonder what 'Pioneer America' looked like as a room. "Your room have belt buckles everywhere and a big rock?"

Jackson shook his head, lips twisted into an amused smirk. "A fake old map and a fake old rifle." Old even by his standards, yes.

"Wow. I don't know if to be more or less impressed. How hard would it be to just use a real old map?" Making up a fake map seemed like more work to him. "As long as mine isn't Egyptian themed, I'll probably be okay."

"You fought in Egypt?" was the logical question to ask, and of course, it reminded Jackson of Drake.

"Sort of." He paused, trying to consider the protocol here. He supposed if this was a different dimension, it didn't matter. This definitely wasn't Earth anyways. "Fought on a planet called Abydos. A bad alien race stole a bunch of Egyptians from Earth and brought them to the planet and enslaved them. Ended up finding the planet and fighting the bad guys to free the people. So, sort of."

Well, that was something. At least O'Neill wasn't the first person Jackson met to talk about alien. He'd actually even already met aliens - although he doubted those bad aliens were all talking raccoons. Rocket said he was one of a kind, and what would be the point in lying about that?

"Fightin' for Egyptians counts," he allowed, after a beat. "I don't even know if there is an Egyptian room here, but it wouldn't surprise me."

"Well, if there is, I'll trade you." He was only sort of kidding. "You know, though, I've always sort of wanted to stay in a themed hotel so I guess now's my chance. Cross that off the bucket list."

And Jack had a feeling he was going to be tired of it quickly.

"Anyways, I guess I should be going up to the front desk and starting me slow decent into madness, hm?"

"Shout out if you need anything," Jackson told O'Neill as they walked into the main building. "I'll be at the bar." He gestured towards the bar, then brought his fingers to his hat in an informal salute. Possibly the sort that bordered on irony, but it was hard to tell, with Jackson. "Colonel."

He gave a nod back with a slight smile - also equally so in his expression. "Captain." It seemed he and Jackson might have some things in common.

Once done, Jack headed on his way to figure out what the hell was going on here.

[EP/GP] Check-In: I Assure You We Are Open

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack

Re: Meet: Jackson and Jack