mayfield_rpg | [First Hat Trick] [Stranger in a Strange Land]

Entry tags:

[First Hat Trick] [Stranger in a Strange Land]

[Master Bedroom of 1764 Beaver St]

[The first thing that Patrick notices is wrong is that he's in a comfortable bed. He doesn't sleep much in beds these days - there's his mattress on the floor of the bedroom of his house. There's the cot up in the attic of the CBI building, and the sofa down in the pen ... but he doesn't wake up in beds.]

[He also doesn't wake up in a twin bed, with the other one occupied by a woman with her hair in curlers.]

[...He decides immediately screaming probably isn't the answer. Besides, it might wake up the strange woman and god knows what sort of crazy she might unleash on him.]

[So, quiet as a mouse, he crawls out of his bed and to the closet to grab some clothes that are -- well, not his but close enough. He forgoes the ties to stick with his normal jacket-vest-pants combination, but keeping his shoes off so he can sneak across the bedroom without awakening the strange brunette.]

[Living Room of 1764]

[He's escaped downstairs, but not before discovering there are two more closed bedroom doors - and the decorator here decided to go with the bad side of the 1950's.]

[He's shoving on clothes when he notices something over the mantlepiece. A portrait. A family portrait.

And he's in it. With the brunette. And two children. He walks up to it and squints, before muttering.]

...What. in the name of. Molly Malloy. Is going on?

[Right. Right. Time to call the police.]

[Phone, open to all]

Hello? Hello? Aaaaah, I'm just trying to be clear here - am I in a real place? I just need to know if I've been kidnapped for nefarious purposes or if I'm just having a mental breakdown? [a pause] Again.

[Out in the Town]

[You might just see a spiffy looking blonde man on the late side of his thirties, just going into his fortieth year, walking around and ... well. Poking things. Poking flowers. Poking sign posts. He's feeling them out to see if they are in fact real or if his mind is playing tricks on him.]

[He's also peering at people very intently when they pass by. He's especially staring hard at the drones, his lips pressing together and his blue eyes going a little harder and more intent.]

[There's something very wrong here, and those people, Patrick has found, are one of the ones that are tickling his Spidey Senses.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[How's this for a change from the drones, Patrick? Not a neatly-groomed man with slicked-back black hair and penny loafers and a suit, but a seven-foot-tall brick wall with wild white hair, a nose that looks like it's been broken about ten times, and an outfit better suited to a steampunk convention.

He's looking at you. And maybe judging, just a bit.]

They're all real, I assure you.

[A pause.]

That is, they are corporeal. Are you a new arrival? We're about due for them.

[Yes, that is definitely a change. Especially since Patrick has to look up. And look up a little further than that.]

[Blue eyes look up, and guess what Klaus, they're narrowing in judgement as well.]

Uh... huh.

[He quirked a smile, before looking around. His tone as he speaks is crisp and dispassionate.]

I suppose I am, and yes, the objects are corporeal. The people, well besides you, are not. They're cardboard. Fake. Right off a cookie cutter. Unlike you, who is filled up with seven feet of European self-importance ... what are you, some kind of baron who owns a big creepy castle with people carrying pitchforks? [His eyes narrow a little further.] Do they come after YOU with those pitchforks?

[Dang, Patrick, you even got his title right. He isn't sure whether he should laugh or punch you in the face. Of course, he's not really energetic enough for either right now. It's been a shitty couple of weeks for the Baron. You get a raised eyebrow instead.]

Impressive deductions, though your details are a bit off. No one uses pitchforks anymore.

[Also Castle Wulfenbach isn't creepy. Rude.]

[Patrick quirks a half smile before stuffing his hands in his pockets, looking around once more.]

Well, it was more of a shot in the dark with the pitchforks.

[He waved his hand around.]

But you are smart enough to see what's going on here -- so. What's going on here?

I am afraid that will take far more time than either of us likely have to explain adequately. The extremely abbreviated answer is that you have been taken from your native place in both space and time and transported here. You cannot leave -- walk too far in any direction and the town loops. Do not attempt to contact or bargain with those who claim to be in power here unless you are interested in winding up dead or worse.

[I mean, if you're ballsy enough to call out a mad dictator who could probably snap you in half with two fingers, you're stupid enough to engage with the milk man.]

And do not -- do not -- drink the milk. Unless you enjoy live spiders or razor blades in your mouth.

[Patrick listened closely - his hands going from his pockets to be clasped behind him. His expression became mildly curious, and then full blown, his blue eyes lighting up.]

Interesting ... all right, a few things. How do I know you're not a delusion of my already fractured psyche, and this is just my mind playing tricks on me? [He arched an eyebrow, watching the other man's expression.]

[ After a few moments of watching the man test reality by poking at a sighnpost, a woman a few feet away gently comments, ]

You'll need stronger tools to make that go away, and even then, it won't be permanent.

[ She's dressed like the locals, but the way she presents is different from the drones. ]

You don't. And if that is what you choose to believe, I won't dissuade you. It has been a while since a new arrival decided to take the route of complete and utter denial. Watching your slow, horrified realization that you are wrong would be amusing. I imagine it would start at your first death and spiral quickly from there.

[Patrick's eyebrow arched up and stayed up.] Well, if you're a delusion of my already broken mind, at least you're being honest about it. So, as far as I can assume - this is all real. I've been kidnapped by the cast of Leave It To Beaver with a murderous town council and a dangerous milkman.

[He suddenly grinned.] Sounds like fun. Do we know why they're holding us here? Is there a crazed young woman in here wearing a pink prom dress, holding a gigantic carving knife?

[Patrick turns towards her, his gaze sinking into her. As soon as he confirms that she does - in fact - have the body language of someone who is actually a person - he moves towards her.]

I'm not trying to make it go away. I'm trying to confirm whether or not I've just cracked again or if I've been kidnapped. From what I've heard, apparently I've been kidnapped.

[Funnily enough, there is a Carrie, though Klaus hasn't met her and doesn't get the reference.]

We do not, as of yet, know their intentions. My current theory is that it is a large and elaborate experiment into mental trauma and how it changes personal morality and boundaries.

Well... sounds about right. Take a bunch of different personalities, put them in a situation where they can't leave and can't escape. Shake with together with poison milk, and then you have yourself an interesting cocktail.

[Patrick clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.] So if I'm not supposed to trust anyone in charge - should I not be trusting you either?

[ The poking is... well, it's a little weird, in Juliet's opinion. The unfamiliar, fair-haired man is obviously determined to poke at everything in sight. Fine. Everyone has their thing. The staring, on the other hand? Crossing over into the creepy area.

Juliet's head tilts as she does some staring of her own, her brows furrowing in puzzlement. She should just walk away. But isn't she supposed to be the nice one? This guy is obviously new, or otherwise just incredibly confused. With a sigh, she takes a few steps towards the man. ]

You know, the whole leering thing? It's a little creepy. Just so you know. [ Slightly awkward. Moving on. ] Are you okay?

Yep, kidnapped - Just this morning?

[ Her smile is sad, and she doesn't move away when he gets closer. ]

[Well that's... new.

Cain can't say he's seen someone poking the signs before, and with such a seriously intense look on his face too, so he can't just ignore it. Walking up, dressed like a drone and with a similar polite smile, he looks up at Patrick.]

Excuse me, sir, are you alright?

You know, I'll give you credit for being far more perceptive than most. I assure you, I'm no threat to you.

Unless you give me reason to be one.

I have been guilty of that before, and some other things... but if you're no threat to me, I'm no threat to you either.

[The smile on his face is practically sunny, if not for the sharp gleam in his blue eyes.]

Patrick Jane. [He holds out his hand.] Truce for the common good?

Just this morning. Woke up in a strange bed - woke up in a bed period with a wife and two kids ... and that's just not possible.

[He gives her a long and thoughtful gaze. She's saddened by the news, and his voice is quiet.] You've been here awhile, haven't you?

[Patrick looks up from where he was poking a daisy, eyes a passing drone, and then finds someone staring at him in turn. He stares back, before a grin passes his face and he waggles a wave at her with his fingers.]

I suppose it would be - if I was leering. Really, I'm just trying to figure out who is real and who isn't You, for example, are real -- and the first police officer I've seen. [He tilts his head.] No, I take that back. Police detective, right?

Oh, just fine and dandy. Trying to figure out if I'm having a psychotic break, is all.

[Patrick turns, and then looks slightly ... down. Interesting. A small child. Wearing drone clothes, possibly not a drone, or possibly the first sign of leadership taking notice of him.]

Don't you ever poke at things to see what will happen?

Not until I can be sure they won't poke back at me much harder.

[Or at least, not physically. He regularly prods people verbally to see what they'll do, it's informative. He doesn't look like he's having a psychotic break, but then there are a lot of mentally unstable people trapped here. There is one fairly safe bet why he's wondering that, though...]

Have you just arrived here, sir?

A year last April. [ She bows, not quite Japanese due to the casual form. ] Ilsa Higa.

This place is real. A little unbalanced in the physcial reality of things but none the less real. The defintion of kidnapped is fitting. Outside of the ransom.... Unless, prehaps you use the post office..

[ A small, slightly uncertain smile tugs at the corner of her mouth at that wave. He seems harmless enough, but you never know. Juliet has half a mind to argue semantics about the definition of leering, but then he completely accurately pins her as a detective and all she can do is to gape in astonishment. ]

I-- How did you...? [ Awe mixes in with the astonishment, and she can't help but laugh in delight. She's used to Shawn being able to divine unexpected things, but this was incredibly accurate. ] Wow, that was amazing. That's right, detective Juliet O'Hara, Santa Barbara PD. How could you tell? Am I giving off some kind of a vibe?

Baron Klaus Wulfenbach.

[Wow his hands are

really big oh god]

Truce.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 4

[First Hat Trick] [Stranger in a Strange Land]

Town (filling out permissions as we type)

Re: Town (filling out permissions as we type)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

About Town

no subject

no subject

Re: About Town

no subject

no subject

Town

Re: About Town

Town

no subject

no subject

Re: About Town

Re: Town

Re: Town

no subject

Re: About Town

[Phone]

no subject

no subject