strangetrip | [GP/EP] Check-in Day

Curnen had been at the inn for nearly six weeks, and in that time she'd had her good days and her bad. Most of the time she remembered to walk upright and speak clearly, and on the best days she remembered songs. Not many, and often with a line or two she had to fudge, and she still couldn't play worth a damn, but she was slowly remembering words to standards she'd known for longer than most of the people around her had been alive.

It was time to try again.

In the lobby and the bar she knew that for the fifteenth the welcoming committee was getting into place to set any newcomers straight on the workings of the Madonna Inn. She too was getting into place, but for a very different reason.

Perched on the roof, Curnen lifted her head to the sky and began to sing.

I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger
A-traveling through this world of woe
But there's no sickness, toil or danger
In that bright land to which I go

This time she felt the magic take hold as the song lifted up and floated out on the wind, calling out to Rob. She knew that at least some people here would sense what she was doing, would know what she was, but she didn't care. Not enough. While she still had not told anyone about her true nature, she was sure at least a couple had guessed. And there was so much less incentive here to do so. She was surrounded by wizards and beings who like herself were not human at all.

So she sang, her voice bright and clear like a bell. A beacon.

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Could she be... No way. They were careful.

With a knuckle under her chin, Coby tipped her head up so she could look into his eyes. "Hey. Seriously, it's all right. You can't tell me anything I'm going to think less of you for, and if it's not that kind of tell me something, we'll deal."

Curnen wanted to flee. The urge was to drop down and dart away and curl up to hide in a bolt hole.

It was only that she rather liked him already that she didn't do that immediately.

"I... don't know you," she said, barely more than a whisper. Her eyes were huge and dark, her body frozen like a startled deer. "I believe you know me. Very well. Your song harm..." she screwed her eyes shut to concentrate on the word and push it out, "harm-mo-nize-es with mine. And I'm sorry."

It wasn't the first time that time itself had gone strange for her. Hell, she was of pure enough stock that she could go back if she wanted it enough. That didn't make this easy.

"Usually it's me who doesn't know someone who knows me," Coby said gently. He'd always hated seeing her upset.

"But if you don't know me, then you wouldn't know that already, or remember we've talked about how we both know what it's like, losing yourself."

Coby straightened his spine, letting the change in posture put more space between them without him actually moving away. He offered his hand. "Hi. I'm Coby. As far as I remember, we met in London, when I just had to stop and listen to a pretty girl singing on a street corner." He couldn't match the purity of Curnen's voice, so he didn't try, but they'd always gotten to know each other best through music, and begin at the beginning, so he offered the first song he heard her sing:

Abroad as I was walking one evening in the spring
I heard a maid in Bedlam who mournfully did sing
Her chains she rattled on her hands, and thus replied she
"I love my love because I know my love loves me."

He must have met her after she had left here, which was an interesting thought but not a confusing one. No, what was confusing was, "London? Singing on a corner? Fuck that don't sound like me at all, I barely been out of Tennessee in my life."

The song, though. She knew she was supposed to know that. She remembered what it was about, a woman locked in a madhouse while her lover was away. But the other verses... Her fingers tangled in her hair. "I don't remember it." She took a breath trying to beat down the sense of panic. "There's a lot that's still lost. Sometimes I can't even talk right."

"Hey," the word drew out soft and slow. "Easy now, butterfly." It's all good.

"Good thing I didn't show up empty-handed." He hitched the bags higher on his shoulders. "You were remembering when we met, but it's a work in progress, right? And 'as the crow flies' doesn't work with memories. Never has for me. But get the music going, things will get clearer."

A thought came to Coby then, and he chewed the corner of his mouth deciding whether to ask, and how. If she didn't remember, there were things she maybe didn't need him telling her right away. "How were things back home, the last you remember?"

"Rob and me were a couple days outta Needsville. I've got his guitar. I dunno why." Curnen smiled and, though it was perhaps not the greatest risk in present company, her teeth went sharp like a predator's. "So I bit out Rockhouse's throat little shy of a week before I turned up here."

Whether these were references he'd understand, she did not know, but they had to start somewhere.

It should probably have been disconcerting, that reminder Curnen was other, but seeing that flash of who and what she was, and that she'd shown it to him based only on his word he knew her, felt good.

"That was... I don't know, weeks before we met, at least. And months since. But yeah, you told me about taking his singing voice. I can't imagine an asshole who deserved it more."

It was only his word, but it felt right. After she had been cursed for so long, most of the Tufa didn't even remember her. That someone from clear on the other side of the country knew her, well.

Curnen had all of time to play in if she wanted.

She nodded, and she was just a girl again. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Any time," Coby assured her with a grin.

"So. Stuck?"

Curnen nodded, pulling herself at least superficially back together. "It's just the hotel, and whatever's four hours out all 'round. And like fifty people. They've got a room for you already, prolly. That's what it was like for me."

Okay, that was unexpected. But so was everything since he grabbed his shit from Brion's van. So he had a room. Wouldn't be the first time there'd been some bigger purpose behind events in his life, whether he could see what it was or not.

"I should maybe see about checking i-" he trailed off mid-thought as another intruded.

"I can't remember, and you were kind of fuzzy about time sometimes. Are The Eagles one of those gaps in your musical education?" He'd had fun once, introducing her to Eric Clapton, before he knew the truth behind why she had those gaps.

Curnen blinked at him blankly, unable to summon anything to go with the name and less able to find a lie. "I guess so," she said. "Anything after the sixties is..." she shrugged.

Coby gave a little nod. He'd kind of expected that. Besides, "If you knew them, you'd have known why I asked. I can play you the whole thing later, if you want, but...

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face.
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year you can find it here

"There's more that seems to fit, and more I'm really hoping doesn't." But knowing Coby's life... maybe better he didn't think about it that way.

"Candle or not, wanna show me the way?"

That got a little smile out of her, and she jerked her head before turning toward the door. "Yeah. C'mon, let's get you a room."

[GP/EP] Check-in Day

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