strangetrip | Check-in May 15

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Check-in May 15

It was the 15th of the month and given the possibility of arrivals, Caroline decided that something should be done to make new people a little more comfortable.

So she was sitting in the lobby, wearing a bright yellow sundress and surrounded by a riot of materials. Her feet were bare, as her sandals were lying off to the side, and her toenails were blue. She was creating Inn survival kits. There was a little pamphlet of explanations: people call the guy at the desk Daryl; yes,everything is free; no, you can't leave; just be firm about towels. A basket of sundries - snacks from the gift shop, sunscreen, guidebook, toothbrush etc. There was a towel, because obviously.

She considered adding a bottle of alcohol, but not everyone drank - she'd noticed at least a few of the current residents who didn't - and if they did drink TOO much, she didn't want to encourage it.

Maybe chocolate?

Caroline jotted down that as a note and resumed chewing on the end of her pen. The lobby door opened shortly thereafter and she looked up with a smile.

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"Probably." Sam glanced over at the Innkeeper and then back to Corbie. "We call Tall and Creepy over there 'Daryl'. He's harmless, except his obsession with towels. I can go with you if you want."

"Nah," Corbie shook her head at the offer, careless enough of a gesture that it couldn't be a lie. "I've handled worse'n tall and creepy." She'd fucked all kinds of creepy. Leaning over she picked up her satchel and slung it back over her shoulder, then hopped down from the stool. "Though from the sound of everything, I'll see you 'round pretty soon."

Kash rolled his eyes and shifted Caroline's 'welcome basket' so it wasn't digging into his armpit. "I was on my way there when you decided I needed help," he said pointedly and started walking again.

And kept walking until he'd reached the desk. "Kashaw Vesh," he said to the gaunt figure behind the desk. "You have a key for me?"

"A moment, Brother Kashaw," said 'Daryl', which was either creepy or impressive-as-hell since he hadn't called himself Brother Kashaw since he got here. He couldn't remember the last time he had, actually. So, yeah. Creepy.

"Hey," he asked--pointedly ignoring the girl for the moment. "Did Vanessa set this up? Is this like a Slayer's Take chapterhouse or something?" He couldn't imagine the Huntmaster in this excruciatingly pink place, but it took all kinds.

"I'm sorry, Brother Kashaw. I have no record of a 'Vanessa' or the 'Slayer's Take'. You will be in room 197, the Crystal Room," he said and gave Kash a folded paper with a small flat rectangle in it.

Kash sighed and pulled a gold piece from the pouch at his belt. "May as well keep that and run a tab. I'll take the key."

"No need for the tab, Brother Kashaw. The key's in the envelope. I'm sure the young lady can explain. Do enjoy your stay and don't forget to call if you need more towels."

Of course he did. Kash exhaled, took the gold piece, and turned to face the girl who'd been trailing him. "Kashaw Vesh. If you can explain this 'key', I'll take it from there. "

"Probably," he agreed. "If you need anything, I'm in Room 102. And I'll be here in the cafe for the next few hours."

He held out his hand to her to shake and said, "I'd say welcome, but it's not like you want to be here. It's good to meet you though."

"Good to meet you, too, Sam," she said, because it was polite, and true, and easier to face than really look at how wrong everything got all of a sudden. She didn't quite succeed at not goggling at how small her hand was in his.

Rey folds her arms over her chest, listening quietly as Kash speaks with Daryl. Daryl says all the thing she expected him to -- which is to say, not much at all. Aside from Kashaw's name and room number, there's more to be gleaned from Kash's half of the conversation than from Daryl's.

When Kash turns to her, Rey doesn't give him an immediate answer. Instead, she tries her hand at answering the questions he directed at Daryl, as best as she could understand them.

"Almost all of us came from different places or different times. If you think someone you know sent you here, it's unlikely."

She directs a finger out the window, and towards building one; it's nested between the two other buildings with rooms, and it's easily the largest, towering four stories high.

"Your room's going to be on the second floor. The key's going to open it. It won't open any other rooms, so don't try it. If you go up the main staircase, your room should be midway to down the hall on your right."

Rey turns back towards Kash, her gaze flickering briefly down to his leg before settling back on his face. "If you don't need anything else, I should get back to it."

It was absolutely the right way to answer and River found herself smiling because Joanna understood. Not even Simon understood, though he tried.

"I am unfamiliar with the artistic purpose of wrapping twigs with aluminum."

"Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I — I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." River quoted still writing in her notepad, she looked up but not at Sam at the woman behind the bakery counter then back to her writing.

"I am making a list." Which was probably obvious. "You do inventory. Count and categorize. Make sure we have enough. But people... want."

"I don't do that much inventorying," Sam observed, as he mostly kept an eye on food levels and stuff out of habit. Carlos and Kitty and Abby seemed to have the actual numbers under control, and the Mills woman knew everything.

But if River said people wanted things, she would know. Even when she didn't want to hear the things they thought, she did. So, "What kinds of things do they want?" was the next logical question.

She handed him the list in answer, it had names or descriptions of people and next to that items she knew that they wanted.

"The woman who bakes things needs a sewing machine." She said, pointing at an item lower on the list. "Kitty needs a generator that can produce sufficient amounts of energy for her experiments."

There was a moment of silence and she said softly, "If you cannot go home, it is easier if you can have things that are familiar."

Alcuin had walked into the lobby intending to find a nice corner to sit in and read for a while. He had been reading outside more often, but today it was a bit too hot and sunny, and he thought that even sunscreen had its limits.

He nearly walked by the pretty young woman standing near the front desk, but as he began to pass her he could not help but notice how utterly lost she looked. It was a familiar look. He remembered it himself.

He stopped. "Hello," he said, voice gentle. "Are you looking for something?"

Sam took the list from her and skimmed over it. It was thorough, and most of the descriptions were people he recognized. "It's really nice of you to do this for them, even if we can't find the things they want."

He kind of wanted to hug her for it, but he didn't know if she'd let him. But he could at least ask, "What would make it easier for you?"

"Best to be prepared, in case another door opens." Like the one that had gone to Songrun. Things for people to look for and think about.

She blinked at him surprised when he asked the question, she didn't know what she wanted... did she know? Simon would know. But Simon wasn't here. Should she ask for Simon? She scrunched up her face and pressed her hands to her eyes.

"I don't.. I... I don't... it's too loud to hear myself."

Her reaction startled him into setting the list on his thigh and reaching for her. "Hey, it's okay." Which was a stupid thing to say. Of course it wasn't okay. "Maybe I can help you figure something out."

He tried to wrap his arm around her shoulders and draw her into a hug, but he didn't try too hard. She always seemed to be sitting on the edge of losing her shit completely and he'd feel really bad if he pushed her there.

"On the edge. I have very good balance." She murmured against his chest. She didn't exactly hug him back, but she didn't pull away. He was too big to remind her of Simon, but somehow he did.

For just a second, Sam rested his cheek on top of her head and then stroked her hair. "Yeah, you do. But if you feel yourself falling, let me know, okay? I'll do what I can to help."

"See you around," he said, gave her hand a gentle squeeze then released it. She might be okay on her own, but he'd be keeping an eye out for her.

"Took bits, can't put them back." She told him seriously pulling away and patting his cheek.

"Not your job to fix."

"Maybe not," Sam acknowledged. "But I'll still be here if you need me."

Why he felt so strongly about that, Sam didn't stop to consider, but he did, and he didn't foresee it changing.

Corbie jumped a little all the same, not having expected the question and concentrating on the problem of where to go and what to do to stave off everything else. She prepared a little smile, and then froze, and, frankly, gaped.

Now, she wasn't a stranger to pretty. Some of the girls she'd worked with had been really pretty. Mildmay was pretty. Felix was breath-stealingly gorgeous. Angel Vyell, despite being built like a brick shithouse, was beautiful.

This boy? Put pretty much all of them to shame.

She shook her head, her cheeks turning pink at her bad manners. "I, um..." She held up the card she'd been given, looking a little dubious. "They told me this was a key."

"It's not very artistic now," Joanna agreed. "But tonight I'll bury the wrapped twigs in the embers of my fireplace, and in the morning, I'll have charcoal for drawing. The foil keeps out enough oxygen that the twigs don't just turn to ash."

Alcuin did not take much note of her staring at him. If she'd only just arrived, who knew what she'd been through, after all. Or where she came from.

"Ah... yes." He offered her a little smile. "I had the same problem when I first arrived. Did they tell you a room number? I can take you there, show you how it works." He assumed that if she already had a key (and wasn't visibly panicking) that someone had already given her the basic rundown of their situation.

Not visibly. Barely.

"Room 171, he said." And while Sam had told her that 'Daryl' was harmless, she hoped she wouldn't have to talk to him again any time soon. Sure, he'd been perfectly polite, but angels and saints, it was like he wasn't completely alive or something. "Building three."

Most of what she said, he'd already heard twice. Hearing it a third time didn't make it any more credible. As far as he could tell, they believed it. Which also made arguing pointless. He nodded the way he did when he wanted Keyleth to think he agreed with her but he just wanted her to stop talking, noted what she'd said about his room--and that she hadn't explained how this little card could be a key.

He considered asking, but he'd already ticked her off and whatever tolerance he had for snippy women had been left at the feet of an angry fire giant. Sometimes civility was the better part of valor.

"Thank you."

And as soon as he said it, he moved in the direction of the front door.

Rey watches wordlessly as Kash moves for the door, still not entirely sure what to make of him. As soon as the door closes behind him, she walks back to her makeshift workstation on the floor of the lobby and continues her work.

Fixing this thing was proving to be a frustration -- but a broken heating assembly was still easier to handle than other people.

At least for today.

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