Mesdames et Messieurs, Voilà, C'est Vous

[lesmodsalouette]

Bievenue

You're wrapped in a soothing, all-encompassing darkness.

Well, perhaps not perfectly all-encompassing -- you can see some slivers of light here and there, just enough to realize that your current space is literally wrapped in something, and that you are a highly customized burrito at the mercy of an entirely too fluffy bed and set of blankets. Moreover: you are definitely not alone.

Depending upon the contents of your bed (two of you, waking up dressed exactly in what you wore last you remember back where each of you came from, in the exact same state as those last moments no matter how illogical or disjointed), it may not be comfortable or feasible to stay cocooned up for much longer. There's a low, muted GONG, GONGG coming from not far away, your bed creaks like a beleaguered ship in an unannounced storm, and it is joined by even more noises of movement beyond the bed canopy as you try to take stock of where you are.

Eventually, you either fall out of bed or drag yourself into this world: your new and strangely crowded personal rooms, the clock insistently sounding out the hour, and the halls and heraldry of the venerable Château Ambregris -- a lavishly decorated and fully furnished version of a more-or-less authentic French castle (assuming you know what France or a castle are).

Left to your own devices for the moment, you may find it helpful to explore the castle for your own purposes, check out the suspicious statues and personalized plaques in the Promenade of Reflexion, or perhaps to try to get to the bottom of the mysterious and frankly alarming amount of bread piled up in front of the place settings in the Banquet Hall. (Were you thinking of escaping? Any attempts to leave the property will be met with no forward progress at all, treadmill style). There's just about every kind of loaf, roll, boule, baguette, croissant or even animal-shaped bread you can think of stacked in baskets. There's absolutely nothing else save for plain bread, but at least you won't starve.

[OOC: Welcome to Château Ambregris, a perfectly normal castle receiving perfectly normal guests. Feel free to ask any questions in discord! The NPC Meet & Greet will be later today, March 8 at 6 PM EST/3 PM PST.]

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[antemeridian]

primrose suite

[ ah. so they're all wrapped up, the metatext says?

oh, well. someone doesn't seem to like that, at first seeming to come awake slowly by parts, as if unsure— then all at once, violently struggling her way free of the blanket burrito on whichever bed she's on in primrose suite and bolting upright, possibly pulling away from or shoving whoever else is in the bed with her in an abrupt motion as she casts a sharp, assessing gaze around at their surroundings. and assorted inhabitants, it turns out. ]

... am I to assume that all of you, too, are only just waking up here?

Or should I ask for you to state your intentions instead?

[ gong, gonng, gonnng, toll the bells as backdrop.

it's, perhaps, an odd way to be addressed by someone dressed in a middle school uniform, but hey. look. there's a guy in full armor here so she's hardly all that noteworthy in comparison. ]

around and about

[ there's a schoolgirl wandering around the grounds. you can find her probably anywhere you like, though she lingers longer at ...

... the Mars Room, studying some of the displays on the wall with a faintly concerned expression on her face, or glancing at either the clock or chandelier, her mouth thin,

... the Clockwork Atelier, where she checks some of the times displayed only to sigh when it turns out none of them are the same. a sundial— ah, wait, maybe it's a nearby hourglass...?— gets a funny look from her as she moves through the room, ending up where all the clockwork dolls and tools are kept, though she doesn't really do anything with them after she pulls them out.

... and the Promenade of Reflexion, where she seems quite intent on ignoring all the mirrors and murals spilling all over the walls to instead fix her attention on either the marble serpent, or the collection of gold statues in the hall.

(a murmur, a whisper: "How was it that they were able to obtain some of this information...?")

... every now and then she seems to check her left hand for something, if you decide to watch her for a while, but, perhaps, whatever she's looking for simply isn't there, as when she does this the set of her features never changes from their staid neutrality, expression unreadable.

still, overall, she has the air of someone wandering with purpose rather than simply meandering around aimlessly. ]

wildcard

[ idk I'm easy, throw something at me. you all know where to find me if you need to run anything by me first! ]

primrose

[fourtuity]

[ Still in a cursed blanket burrito, she says deadpan from the floor somewhere: ]

What do you think?

[antemeridian]

I think it would be very easy to make assumptions of things that aren't true, considering.

[ beat. ]

But if you were the one in the bed alongside me, I apologize for pushing you off of it so roughly. It was not my intent to do so.

[fourtuity]

[ Well, that's understandable and logical. She goes from deadpan to droopy in 0.5 seconds flat. ]

Can't say I'm not ready to slap an ass right now, so can't blame you... I don't even know how I fell asleep before whatever this is.

[ Time to roll around and loosen this blanket burrito more. ]

[antemeridian]

It is the same for me. It was early evening, yes, but I was out in the city, not at home in bed.

[ so they're missing time. love it. ]

[fourtuity]

And I was driving in the...early morning? With a bunch of people in the car. Uggggh. This is soooo dumb.

[ Does she even have to elaborate on how much that's freaking her out right now? Honestly, she should be getting praise for being as calm as she is! (lol) ]

primroseeeee

[ocenon]

The only intentions at the moment are to ascertain the situation, such as it is.

[ yes hello here is armor man, reporting for duty. ]

Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like anyone else here has any broader of indication of what's going on.

[antemeridian]

[ that... actually does look like real armor. huh. it's not the strangest thing in the world to see, maybe...

well, if he were a girl, anyway. or if the armor were more of a cosplay prop ... but as it is, neither of those seem to be true. ]

I don't suppose I can ask what the last thing you remember is?

[ocenon]

I was with a group of people in a place called "Snowfield," in the middle of a discussion.

[ He knows it's a pretty vague answer, but getting any more specific doesn't really seem worth it. ]

It's in a region called the United States, if you're familiar with it.

[antemeridian]

I am aware of the United States, but I can't say I'm familiar enough with it to know of exactly where Snowfield would be...

[ Somewhere in the north? She guesses? That's where you're likely to find snow, right? And the mountains too, but then it wouldn't be much of a field... ]

I am from Japan, myself.

[ocenon]

I'm not sure of the specifics, myself, beyond that it's not that far from the desert.

[ Mages don't really seem to have much of a sense of humor, but it's hard not to see the irony there. ]

Hm, quite a bit of distance away, then. What was the last thing that you remember before awaking here?

clockwork atelier

[simulacres]

[ ayaka sees homura looking at the hourglass, tilting her head to the side. ]

Is there something wrong with it?

[antemeridian]

... Just wondering who might have flipped it recently.

[ is that what caught her attention? who can say. but there's been plenty of people wandering around, so even if she'd been alone in the room for the immediate past, it's entirely possible someone else set it earlier. ]

[simulacres]

[ what a weird thing to focus on. ]

Probably someone? I've seen people coming in and out of rooms a lot.

[antemeridian]

Probably.

[ ... she does realize, though, that a one word reply does not make for good conversation, so: ]

It's a little odd, though. Isn't it? That there are so many different types of timepieces in this room, but the clocks found in every other room are the same kind.

[ Why are there so many clocks everywhere, actually. That can't be normal for old castles like these, can it? ]

[simulacres]

Maybe it's a hobby?

[ she can't really see another purpose for these clocks. ]

It's not like they're telling the same time, so whoever is taking care of these probably don't care about the time and just the, uh, appearances.

Clockwork

[the_obedient_servant]

A room full of mismatched clocks. [They comment, after a few moments of being in the room with this girl.

They have their own thoughts, observations to offer, but they resist the urge to put it all out there. Best to see what they're dealing with in terms of teammates/rivals.]

Do you think there's a purpose behind it?

[antemeridian]

I don't know. Or rather, I haven't decided yet.

[ quiet, demurred. open enough, but with the clear sound of someone used to keeping their own counsel. ]

The choices made for the clocks in the other rooms seem rather deliberate, though. [ matching. someone likes their timekeeping devices to fit aesthetically, apparently. (a clock with a scythe for a pendulum...) so maybe that's what the variety is for. the amount of excess, though... ]

[the_obedient_servant]

The scythe seems deliberately foreboding. When the grandfather clock sounds, your life runs out, perhaps?

[They aren't entirely interested in it, but they approach one of the mismatched clocks, gazing at it idly.]

Are you familiar with how airports will sometimes have setups displaying the time in every major timezone in the world?

[antemeridian]

Mmm. It is a little bit too on the nose. Not particularly subtle.

[ for the part of her who enjoys theater and ballet... really? after a point it becomes less a theme and more just tacky. ]

I am, yes. I cannot say I've traveled much, but I am aware of the practice.

[the_obedient_servant]

Neither have I, but my point is -

All of us are from different locations - perhaps even worlds. [Definitely worlds, but that's neither here nor there.] This place has some kind of access to worlds beyond it's reach.

It's a theory without much in the way of evidence, but the clocks could be tracking time in certain locations within these worlds.

...Or some obnoxious twit decided to mess them all up for aesthetic purposes.

Mars Room

[cleansheets]

[ After calming down at least a little bit and also changing out of his spacesuit into a more appropriate outfit (fancy riding clothes), Angelo is also hanging out in the Mars Room to survey the firearms.

He's not really in the mood for socializing much, but he still turns to Homura at least once to give a little scoff. ]

It's all woefully outdated.

[ She's a little girl, so surely she's intimidated by the weaponry, right? ]

[antemeridian]

... It is.

[ Said easily in agreement after a moment, as if she wasn't actually expecting to be addressed. ]

Still, dated or not, a sword is still perfectly capable of doing harm to someone. One need only hone the edge ... I wonder how well most of these have been maintained.

[ For one, flintlock is incredibly finicky, she knows. For two, the fact that this is all so readily accessible ... Hmm. ]

[cleansheets]

[ Alright, that answer was a lot more chill than he expected for someone of her general appearance. It suits him just fine though, he's certainly not in the habit of calming people down. ]

Having ornamental weaponry isn't terribly unusual for a place like this.

[ He's lived in a castle before. ]

So I'd wager none of this has been fired in decades, if ever.

[ And that sucks. ]

[antemeridian]

... Hopefully no one tries to use one and have it explode in their face, then.

[ Love that. ]

Are such ... [ overdone. ] Opulent displays normal for a place like this, do you know?