strangetrip | GP/EP: Check-In Day: Turning Tricks into Treats

Instead of the remains of a raucous night of dedicated drinking, the chairs were up on the tables, the counter was cleaned, the floor had been vacuumed and mopped as appropriate. Kitty had had plenty of time to straighten up at close yesterday, since almost everyone seemed more interested in drinking in Bonesville. For her part, she'd had enough after her and Wyatt's little adventure in Funland. At least, she'd had enough for the few days it would take her to heal.

On the upside, that made opening up this morning easy and fast. On the downside, it meant she had an entire day with not much to distract her from wondering when Barrel of Fun would lock down access to the outside and why it couldn't open onto a world with higher tech. She had managed to scavenge some computer circuitry and cell phones, but she hadn't worked out how they'd solve her current tech problem yet.

If Dot were still here, she'd be baking for Halloween. Even if they'd had to explain Halloween to her, she'd be making cookies and candy and cakes, and probably sewing costumes, too. Those thoughts summoned a wistful sigh from Kitty while she took down the chairs. She was still sighing when she finished refreshing her stock of cut up fruit.

By mid-afternoon, she'd put away a pot and a half of coffee, she was practically vibrating, and a buzz-by from Caroline prompted an amazing idea. Why not spend the afternoon testing Halloween and Thanksgiving cocktails, to help turn the arrival trick of Check-In Day on the 1st into, well, a little bit of a treat? So it was that the new arrivals, two days earlier than expected, found the bar counter covered with spooky and kooky and dry-ice steamy drinks and Kitty literally spinning between her coffee cup and the next bright green, weirdly black, or pumpkin orange drink.

[ooc: find Kitty making any of these or drinking yet another cup of coffee, she's OTA]

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Corbie had not been expecting anyone new today. It was too early, they'd never come before the first of the month. Still, she'd been here long enough that she knew everyone by sight, most of them by name, even if she hadn't spoken more than three sentences to some of them. So the new face was immediately, obviously new.

Even though she'd watched his hand move away from his weapon, she found herself asking, "You ain't looking to shoot anybody, are you?"

Jackson faced the girl who'd spoken up immediately, taking in everything about her. Her clothes looked as odd as everything in this here place, but she looked harmless enough. It would take a lot for him to want to shoot a girl, and a girl with those eyes on her, at that.

"'m really hopin' I won't have to," he answered, without stepping closer. He was a tall man with a gun, and she was a tiny slip of a girl. Better let her choose how much distance she was comfortable with. Didn't mean he wasn't going to ask the question burning his lips. "Where in the blazes am I? If you don't mind filling in a lost stranger."

The clothing was only slightly less weird to Corbie, having only so much experience with wearing it. She still hadn't quite made it to pants. That was too much. Neither could she find dresses that quite suited what she wanted, but they'd have to do.

She didn't step closer. But she didn't move away. She considered him for a moment before she nodded and answered. "This is the Madonna Inn. It's in California, if that word means anything to you."

"'Course California means somethin' to me," Jackson answered, not sure who she took him for. No drug had addled his brain that much - so far, anyway. She sounded American herself, although he couldn't quite have said where she was from. "But see, Miss, my quandary is, last I knew I was in London."

Corbie shrugged. "It doesn't to everyone here. It didn't mean anything to me. And..." here, she ducked her head. "I'm afraid London doesn't mean too much either. Take it that's far away, though."

Jackson did take one single step closer then, urged by his own confusion and growing irritation. "All the way across the ocean, on the other side of the country." His hand was back on his gun, habit as much as comfort in the circumstances. "How can you not know that? How did I get here?"

Corbie sighed. "That ain't easy to explain. Or understand. I'm sorry that this isn't gonna make much sense, and I'm not trying to be mysterious or anything. Best way I can describe it, the universe has a pocket it forgot about and we've fallen into it. People from different times and places. Different worlds, sometimes. We don't know how it is that we've ended up here, or why us. But we can't get back out. Not yet, anyway."

Jackson stared at her for a moment. Sucked his lips in, then exhaled with all the patience he was capable of mustering at this stage. "You said we're in California." And now she was going on about something right out of the mouth of madmen. A pocket in the universe? Other worlds? The only world he knew was the world he'd always lived in, and he'd see about Heaven or Hell when he finally bit it.

Corbie chewed her lip. "Told you it wasn't easy to explain. It's more... okay, we're stuck in this one tiny piece of California. You can go about four hours out in any direction. But that's as far as anybody's managed to go. And it's just us and the hotel. 'Bout fifty people."

"That doesn't make a lick'a sense," Jackson told her peremptorily. She had to know how insane she sounded. This was Bedlam talk.

"No," Corbie agreed. She shrugged, knowing she sounded crazy but also knowing she was in the right. "It doesn't. I didn't believe it either."

"Nobody in their right mind would," Jackson replied pointedly. "Four hours, you say? What time is it now?"

"I don't wear a watch," Corbie admitted. Of course she didn't, she couldn't afford one. "But late enough last I checked that it'll be getting dark soon. Might wanna speak to the innkeeper about a room."

Jackson looked back towards the front doors, the failing light outside. Damn if she wasn't right, probably best to spend the night here, go in the morning. He looked back at her with another sort of wariness. "Is this a scheme?"

If it was, it was a very elaborate one. But a room in a place like this - however pink - had to cost a lot. He'd just as soon drink until he passed out anywhere that would have him.

Corbie's face softened, and she looked older then, more tired. "I almost wish it was. That'd make a fuck of a lot more sense."

Well, Jackson liked the mouth on her, in any case. "You're tellin' me." He looked around again, and then back at the girl. "I'm gonna be stuck here tonight, I'm gonna need a lot of alcohol. You got anything like a bar around here?"

Corbie's mouth quirked in a small, lopsided smile. "Oh yeah, we'd all definitely be crazy without." She pointed. "Bar's that way. Kitty could maybe explain things better than I can."

Jackson touched his fingers to his hat. "Well, thank you for that, darlin'." Whatever was going on here, he'd find his way to the bottom of a couple of bottles, and figure it out in the morning.

GP/EP: Check-In Day: Turning Tricks into Treats

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