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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[littlegentleman]

Primrose Suite

[Whether he wakes up of his own accord or due to the frenzy of one of his other suitemates, Junior leaps out of bed at once. His hand shoots back behind himself, as if reaching for something...only for a flash of further alarm to cross his face as he finds himself unarmed. Taking quick stock of himself, he realizes that each of his concealed weapons have been taken from him. Eyes darting silently from one person he shares the room with to another, he abruptly turns on his heel and bolts--but not toward the door.

Junior runs headfirst into a solid wall at full speed, as if he expecting to pass right through it, and promptly falls backward onto his bottom with a dazed look on his face.]

Exploring

[Once the initial panic wears off, it's time to take stock of his surroundings. The boy's main concern, once it becomes apparent that there's no escaping this mysterious place, is to find a means of self-defense. He takes some time in the mars room, assessing the suitability of the weapons lining the walls...and frowning at both their overall lack of efficiency and otherwise positioning above his short reach. After that comes the workshop, where the tools were less than ideal for combat, but could potentially do in a pinch. Junior turns a sculpting tool over in his small hands, carefully testing the sharpness of the edge with a finger.

The kitchen, of course, is the most promising place to swipe a knife, if needed. It would probably be more obvious if one went missing, which he considers to himself as he eyes a paring knife. He needed something easy to conceal, that would fit nicely in his hand...but hurriedly puts it back where he found it as soon as someone else joins him.]

Banquet Hall

[Eventually, like so many others, Junior's hunger gets the best of him. He doesn't trust the accommodations that's been left for them...but seeing others taking the bread and not apparently recoiling from a potential poisoning, gives in to the growling of his stomach and tentatively takes plain loaf to nibble on. The youngster promptly tucks himself into a corner, effectively cutting off any attempts that may be made to surprise him, and proceeds to watch the others who are trapped here with him.

If anyone catches him staring, he'll at least have the decency to snap his gaze down to his feet, looking every part like the contrite child he is.]

kitchen

[frostlight]

[The haste once she enters is what tips her off more than anything else, but Tia doesn't hesitate. She makes a beeline for the hearth in the back, keeping the boy in her periphery as she moves.]

Whatever it is you're taking, you should do it before anyone else comes in.

[littlegentleman]

[Junior glances at the knife again, but then back to the woman, hesitating. While he doesn't feel safe or comfortable without a weapon, he also recognizes that everyone else must be feeling similarly. When he speaks up, his voice is soft and uncertain.]

You aren't going to admonish me?

[frostlight]

Why? I'm not the king of this place.

[She comes to a halt with the decisive clack of a heel before the hearth. A thought occurs to her, and her sharp gaze snaps toward him.]

Do you know such a person?

[littlegentleman]

[Junior shakes his head, his expression relatively blank. It certainly doesn't seem like he's lying.]

No...I don't know who's in charge here. Or any kind of king at all, for that matter.

[frostlight]

[The frown persists for another second before she turns away, placated by his answer.]

Good. Then what you take from this place doesn't concern me.

kitchen

[the_obedient_servant]

There's actually an armory, you know.

[Their tone is conversational. After all, the knives in the kitchen were one of the first things they looked for. It's always good to be prepared.

It implies something about the kid in front of him, a certain ruthless realism that they have no doubt plenty of the adults would balk at. Mildly interesting, but about what they'd expect.]

[littlegentleman]

[There's perhaps a hint of bashfulness to his expression as he considers them--they look like they may be around his age, but of course appearances can be deceiving. And most certainly, age didn't mean anything in regards to how much of a threat someone could be.

He shakes his head.]

The weapons there are mostly decorative. Anything I could wield myself is likely duller than something actively used for cooking.

[Might as well admit his intentions, if he was caught in the act. Still, he won't deny that he's hoping for a quiet moment he can find something to step on so he can reach one of the daggers.]

[the_obedient_servant]

Very true. [No doubt they could still be used lethally by a particularly skilled killer, or by a particularly DETERMINED actor. A kitchen knife makes for a fine weapon when it comes to premeditated murder, at least.] I never much understood the need for show weapons.

Are you worried? [Their tone is dry, as if they don't share the same belief. Of course they should be worried.]

[littlegentleman]

Worried?

[Junior considers the term, almost as if he'd never even heard the word before. It wasn't exactly wrong, but wasn't exactly right, either.]

I don't know what I expect to happen...but I feel better, being prepared for the worst.

[One thing he knew for certain: he didn't trust anything here. Not the place, not the people, and not whoever had brought them there.]

Are you worried? You seem calm enough.

[the_obedient_servant]

[They wonder if they're actually capable of being "worried."]

Not particularly. I suspect there'll be a threat that reveals itself soon, either among us or as an outside force. [Or both.] But I'm prepared. It's an interesting detour at any rate.

You should eat, if you haven't yet.

kitchen

[smdr]

[ hm.

jinx's eyes snap to junior's hands with his movement of concealing what he's planned to take, her head tilting juuust the slightest. she observes junior for a second, two seconds, mind humming, buzzing... until she figuratively brushes it off, walking closer and eyeing where he stands, what he'd picked up, her hands on her waist.

considering. again.

... and then she plants her butt on the nearest counter space, picking up one of her braids and swinging it back and forth, back and forth, her eyes wandering throughout the kitchen. ]

Got so much crap here, it's not like I'd notice if anything pulled a big old disappearing act. Especially not a little knife picked up by a kid that's about as subtle as a stumbling drunk.

[ yes, said like he's not even there. she does not see. ]

[littlegentleman]

[The closer she gets, the more tense his body language gets. He doesn't look, exactly, like he's going to lash out...but that he's ready to act quickly in case he's threatened. But then she sits, instead, and his shoulders relax a little. His eyes lower, like he's just been given a poor review from a superior.]

...I'm not feeling like myself.

[Normally, he was much stealthier. But nothing about this situation was normal, and he couldn't make enough sense of things to behave at the best of his abilities without his abilities.]

[smdr]

[ well, that makes two of them. she looks at him a moment more, letting go of her braid to lean back on her hands, feet kicking slightly.

forwards, backwards. ]

Needa be yourself to stab a guy? That's when I do my best [ she chuckles lightly, something taut within it. best, she says. worst, she means. ] work.

[ ha... ha. funny. that was so....... funny. ]

[littlegentleman]

Not really.

[He stares at her, not seeming to comprehend her laughter. Or that she'd told any kind of joke at all. Lately, he'd found it just a little harder to work under pressure--or maybe it was that the pressures had changed.]

But it helps to have a clear mind when assessing unexpected situations.

workshop

[allrounder]

[ G'raha is a bit taken in by the workshop, the paints and palettes and materials for woodworking capturing his curiosity, but he can't help but keep an eye on Junior in his periphery.

He is, after all, young. ]

Do take care not to prick your finger.

[ He's not rushing to stop Junior from examining the sculpting tool, but his concern slips out in spite of himself anyway. ]

[littlegentleman]

[Junior's gaze slides up from his task to look at the man who spoke to him.]

They're really not very sharp.

[But they were solid, he notes. Could definitely do some damage, if used with purpose. Slowly, he puts it back down where he found it.]

...do you like these kind of things?

[allrounder]

[ Well, if they're not sharp... ]

Handicrafts? I find them an interesting point of research, however I cannot say I have any real skill in any of these disciplines.

[ He's been too focused on reading to ever take up any woodworking. ]

And yourself?

[littlegentleman]

No, I don't have any particular interest or talent in artistry.

[But it didn't hurt to familiarize himself with everything this place had to offer. To discover as much as possible about the resources they had. Despite his "serious business" approach to his exploration, however, he still finds himself glancing at the stranger's ears. He'd never seen someone with animal characteristics, before.]

What...do you have skill in?

[allrounder]

Research.

[ An immediate answer, as it's what he's most accomplished in and most proud of. But he adds just a moment later: ]

Magic as well. Or, rather, I would very much like to think I've become skilled in that realm.

banquet hall

[spotsalone]

[ Hickey has spotted the kid a few times now, the two of them idly crossing paths as they explore the palace. To say Hickey's been watching him is an overstatement, but it's interesting that they've gravitated toward a few of the same areas.

When he catches Junior staring, he strides over, all smiles. ]

Hello.

[ He's got his hands in the pockets of his greatcoat as he looms. ]

Get enough to eat?

[littlegentleman]

[Junior, of course, was also keeping track of anyone he ran into--trying to memorize the faces of the people he was stuck here with, and the details listed on their placards...not that he'd had too much time to study them, yet. It had been underneath his priority to arm himself, and then food had become a necessity.

So he watches as the man approaches him with a guarded expression on his face, but doesn't instinctively make a move for anything concealed on his person.]

Hello.

[He's nothing if not polite.]

I'm fine, thank you. What about you?

[spotsalone]

[ He grins, patting his stomach. ]

Yes. It's been some time since I've seen fresh bread.

[ Without waiting for an invitation, Hickey sits down next to Junior. ]

What's your name?

[littlegentleman]

[The boy blinks a few times. He's not used to people willingly putting themselves in his sphere. Not unless they were another operative, of course. But a stranger? Well, only two had ever been so welcoming to him, and they weren't anything like this man at all.]

My name is Junior.

[He hesitates, then nods his head slightly.]

It's nice to meet you.

[As nice as a situation like this could be, he supposed.]

[spotsalone]

It's nice to meet you too, Junior. My name is Cornelius Hickey.

[ He takes stock of Junior's vantage point from this little corner. He's got a good view of the hall, of each entryway. Has he put himself here on purpose? Or just to stay out of the way? ]

I saw you exploring around earlier. Find anything exciting?