strangetrip | Check-In Day: Around the Inn

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Check-In Day: Around the Inn

Finished with self-imposed paperwork and emergency planning for the week, Regina permitted herself a leisurely ride on this absolutely gorgeous spring day. After a good gallop, Grace was content to walk, cropping at dried scrub and new shoots when Regina gave her rein. Regina steered the mare gently toward the west; she could teleport, of course, but she appreciated the quiet of riding toward the beach. She found, in the wake of Henry's Christmas visit, she more often craved the scent of the salt air and ocean breezes. Of course, the Pacific never quite smelled like the Atlantic, always warmer and less bracing somehow, but it soothed the wildness in her just the same.

Back at the Inn, Kitty busied herself with stocking the pool bar and generally setting up for the warmer seasons. The pool had been skimmed of winter detritus and chlorinated by the staff-spectre she rarely if ever saw, and there were fresh towels set out like a proper resort. Since the choice of music was hers, the air around the bar filled with dance beats, Afro-Caribbean today, and Kitty moved right into it. She didn't usually dance at work, but she felt bright today and maybe Lara would come down and work with her and they could goof around Cocktail style.

Sam passed through the Copper Cafe in search of a cup of coffee and a salad, or one of the two gorgeous women he'd somehow wound up involved with. His brow scrunched like a caterpillar hurrying away from a predator while he semi-consciously outpaced thoughts about babies and brothers, and possibly babies and girlfriends. His mild scowl wasn't helped by the pack of spirits trailing him and chatting at him about the lives of his family members. He'd asked them not to gossip about people he wasn't close with, but as a consequence, they talked rapidly and often about River's most recent oddness or his mother and Hathaway acting like...well, like him and Molly and Bo, and no thanks. Ditto on Dean and Jane. For all that he looked a little bothered, there wasn't anything menacing or aggressive about it. If anything, the slight tilt of his head as he strolled through the Inn looked thoughtful, as though he listened to something somewhat distant.

Lillith had come to a bit of a routine for arrival days, and around noon, she sat for tea with River Song. They spoke little, and it was difficult to tell whether the women even liked each other. But for all that, Lillith was content with the ritual. If Curnen sang, she would go out to the lawn next and listen. In fact, on such a sunny day, she would undoubtedly flop on the lawn with a sketchbook and a practice notebook, letting her mind float between image and spellcraft as it would. Out here, she would quickly veil herself at the approach of anyone new, but she often was distracted enough that they might catch her in her true form with her all unaware.

Around them, the Inn hummed and buzzed with the happy energy of winter giving way to spring. The most patient and subtle would undoubtedly note the undercurrents of tension, fear, frustration, and boredom that built up over time. But for day, at least so far as this four were aware, the worst of it had been suspended, in favor of enjoying warm sun and the company of friends.

[OOC: GP. It's a gorgeous day. Come and play! All four of mine can be available. Ping me if you're inspired to tag. <3 Welcome, Carol, Toby, and Number Five!]

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Tony gestured at WALL-E to deliver a ginger ale to put the sickly feeling in his stomach to rest. “You’d be surprised. And you smell like you’ve consumed enough coffee to kickstart a sloth. And if you’re as young as you look then I’m forced into the responsible adult position and lectures about stimulants are involved and I’d love to avoid that.”

Five stared at him for a few seconds, remembering that talk with Hazel about life post-apocalypse. What would you have done if you hadn’t left home and gotten mixed up with the Commission? He’d guessed ‘grow up into an emotionally stunted man child like everybody else.’ The reply had been So do that, grow up.

It was hard to grow up at fifty-eight, but it was what teenagers were supposed to do. And in this place at least, April 1st would come and go and the world wouldn’t end.

He shook his head. “It’s complicated. I’m sticking with thirteen for now.”

"...Alright." Damage was the word that came to mind, though he had more tact than to say it. Everyone had chinks in their armor, but not everyone wore the face of a child. And for Tony, even knowing the trick wasn't enough to negate the effects.

"Well, me llamo Tony. Tony Stark." He relented, approaching the bed to toss the papers into a somewhat-orderly mess onto the nightstand.

“Number Five. Just Five, if you’re going to abbreviate.” He wouldn’t put it past this Tony to find some version of ‘Number’ if not directed otherwise.

"Five." Tony slowly nibbled his bottom lip as he lowered the can, tasting remnant ginger still there. He glanced over his shoulder doubtfully and idly shuffled a new stack of notes.

“Yup.” Five removed one of the papers that he’d folded into his composition book and used the book as a hard surface to scrawl a few additional notations, then passed the paper back. Establishing value was a good early step when blending into a new period. “Let’s just say my old man was a no-nonsense type.”

Tony accepted the paper with a quick glance towards the additional remarks, just long enough to note they were something to chew on. Remembering he didn't have a breast pocket, the nanites composing his clothing formed into a spring jacket bearing one so he could tuck it inside.

Fathers--the visit from his own dad had left him something similar. A message from the literal beyond, scrawled on a napkin. Those were feelings he didn't need to remember just then.

"Just Five."

“Number Five. Yes.” The siblings had shorthanded to just the numbers amongst themselves, but Sir Reginald had always used full names. Even after Mom had started handing out real names. “What’s it to you?”

'Uncomfortable. I'll go with uncomfortable.' "Can I sell you on Quin?"

“Why?” Five knew why, he just wanted to see if the man would actually say ‘I don’t like your name, it’s not normal, so you should change it.’

Tony kept his mouth shut, lest he bear a repeat of the Kitty 'mutant' faux pas. "Welp. If you're cool with it."

“You know what? Just for you.” He hadn’t walked into the trap, after all. “Fifty-eight. Do you think that’s long enough to be ‘cool with it’?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll take your word for it.” Tony tucked his hands in his pockets.

“For what it’s worth, my brothers and sisters do have ‘real names.’” Five air-quoted that, just to be a jerk. “I left before I got one is all, and that was forty-five years ago in at least one sense.”

“Oh come on, that’s not fair. A lot of folks wanna be sure they’re not dehumanizing someone who looks like they just graduated recess.” Since parenthood, it was a lot harder to negotiate his flippant side and his nurturing side. “Whatever your story is, it didn’t suffer for a working knowledge of physics.”

"It didn't bother me even when I was completely thirteen. It's just a name, who gives a shit?" Five shrugged. For most of his actual thirteenth year alive, he'd had much more substantive worries than his name or lack thereof. Not starving, for one. "The physics is necessary and self-taught. This might surprise you, but time travel is a bitch and a half."

“So you just do it all.” Tony wandered back to the couch, lounging back. If Five wanted chit chat, well, he wasn’t moving anytime soon.

"Where 'all' is 'travel in space and time', yeah." Five returned his attention to the conspiracy board, as if it would make sense or seem familiar the longer he looked at it. "Never actually traveled to parallel or pocket dimensions before, though. Not on purpose, anyway - alternate timelines pretty much happen all the time."

“Any going in and out is, thus far, utterly arbitrary.” Tony thought of Lara as he said it. Many had left and only the one to return.

“Yeah, well, no one else is me.” Five was confident, but he didn’t think it was misplaced. It might take years or even decades, but he’d get it sooner or later.

"That's encouraging." Not all sass. If one of the masses had spunk, all the better. Wallowing in angst was the easy way out. Tony made a simple hand gesture at WALL-E to signal for a cup of tea. "For the record, unless the name 'Thanos' means anything to you, consider it niche decor."

“It doesn’t, but I don’t know what’s useful yet.” Cross-dimensional travel was likely to be even more complex than time travel, after all. Being able to precisely define other universes might be part of it. “Give me a year or five.”

"Don't burn at both ends." Rich, coming from him. "Take a load off. Have a cuppa. What do you take yours with--lemon? Honey? Vodka?"

“None of the above.” Tea wasn’t as good as coffee, but it was often easier to get. Five moved back to the bed, as a convenient place to sit. “Where I came from, the world just ended. I showed up here, and I don’t know when my family went. I’ll burn every end I have to.”

Giving a vague but knowing hum, Tony set his mug aside and gestured for WALL-E to approach. “Time won’t pass back home. That was a leading theory that’s been anecdotally confirmed. Not that that takes much pressure off.” WALL-E dutifully spun around for Tony to pop open a panel on his back.

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