strangetrip | 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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"'Cause men rule the world," Corbie said, matter-of-factly, her shoulder lifting in a glum half-shrug. She cast about for somewhere to sit and plopped uncertainly on a sofa. "And don't matter how strong you stand on your own if you piss 'em off."

"Piffle," Phryne said decisively. "Before we get into such weighty matters as whether men have any right to rule over women, tell me, darling. Would you prefer tea or cocoa, or perhaps something stronger?"

She looked as though she could use a few glasses of bubbly to cheer her up, but then, Phryne thought everyone could do with a few glasses of bubbly.

Corbie's ears perked up at the word cocoa. Chocolate was expensive at home, and has such she had only tasted it once or twice. But...

"I know I said tea before, but I think I could maybe handle something stronger now."

"I know just the thing," Phryne replied brightly, and then disappeared for a moment into another space in the room. She'd gathered glasses, bucket (of course Dot had prefilled it with ice, sometime earlier in the afternoon) and bottle, and then as she made to return asked aloud, "Would you like something more comfortable to wear, darling?"

"Um," Corbie's eyes went uncertain. "Why?"

"Because I imagine you don't have any other clothes with you, and I don't know how long you've been wearing those," Phryne replied with a no-nonsense air that somehow also expressed genuine concern. "And I'm a firm believer a woman should always dress, first and foremost, to please herself." In her place, Phryne would want comfort most of all, but she could hardly judge what would be comforting to the girl.

Corbie shrugged awkwardly. "I don't got any other clothes, no." And given what she'd seen around her, she didn't know what was available that wouldn't make Gran roll in her grave.

"There are clothes in the boutique, and I imagine Joan's left behinds might fit," Phryne mused aloud and then shrugged, set down the champagne ice bucket and glasses. "Dot should have some leftover fabric when she's done with the Russian boy's trunks. I'll see that she gets your measurements. But in the meantime--"

Without another word, Phryne disappeared into her boudoir. She dug through her closet briefly and came up with one of her shorter lightweights, a sailor dress, that would be too long on Corbie but probably almost long enough for her to be comfortable in.

"Here, love. This ought to do. It's lightweight and loose. Perfect for lounging."

It wasn't cut like anything Corbie had ever worn, but she had little in the way of options and she wasn't about to be picky.

And it did look more comfortable than the stiff dress she was wearing.

She stood and took the dress. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure."

Smiling still, she set about opening the bottle of champagne and gestured toward her bedroom. "Feel free to shut the door to change. If you hear a loud 'pop', don't be frightened. It's just the champagne."

Corbie nodded and slipped into the bedroom, more so she wouldn't look completely uncivilized than because she was actually shy of another woman seeing her body. It was a relief to get out of all the layers and restricting undergarments.

The dress really would have taken some adjustments to fit her correctly, and even so the fit was very strange for her. Straighter than she would have ever thought fashionable. Shorter, too. But that was okay. It was a kindness, and she wasn't stupid enough to be ungrateful.

Since she was already at it, she took her hair down from its braids and let it fall around her face in its usual unruly curls.

She gathered her own clothes up and made a neat enough bundle of them before she came back out.

By the time Corbie emerged with her (preciously) tidy bundle of clothes, Phryne had seated herself on the couch and now lounged with a glass of sparkling champagne in her hand. She'd poured a glass for the girl and leaned forward to lift it and hold it out to her.

"Here, darling. Come and sit down. Ask me anything you want to know and I'll do my best to answer. Or, if you like, tell me about your home."

Corbie accepted the champagne, looking at it wonderingly before she took a sip. She'd never tasted any kind of sparkling wine before, and she made a little sound of surprise as it tickled her nose.

She placed her clothes on the floor by her feet. "I'm not sure. How long have you been here?"

A sensible question, Phryne decided, and one that made a decent place to start. She nodded, sipped her champagne and replied, "Six months now. A month is thirty-one twenty-four hour days, give or take."

Check-in May 15

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