entrancelogs | Tavern Mingle (INSIDE)

Entry tags:

Tavern Mingle (INSIDE) | OPEN

Who: EVERYONE
Where: The Dark Lantern Tavern!
When: 1/15/16 -1/18/16 - The duration of the event!
Rating: Probably PG-13, will vary by thread.
Summary: Let's go to this creepy tavern and ask for some directions! A log for staying nice and dry inside.
The Story:

For the duration of the event, the mansion has become a dingy tavern. It has two floors, the bottom being the main tavern and the upper floor has six bedrooms with one bed and one magic closet in each room for everyone to fight over, unless they don't mind sleeping on the floor or in the tavern somewhere. With the amount of people in Wonderland, everyone is cramped together and it will be very crowded. The closets will work, however they will only provide clothing and items from time periods long gone (though they do not seem to be bound to any particular time period). There are no employees to be found in the Tavern, but there's a working kitchen with a wood fire stove and enough food and drink for everyone to last the entire event comfortably. There's even a stage with musical instruments to entertain yourselves with! There's no electricity, but plenty of candles and lanterns around.

For the entire length of the event, it will be dark outside. In addition to the never-ending night, it will pour for four days straight, and it will all seem rather ominous once it becomes apparent the sun isn't coming out. Pretty much all signs will suggest that everyone should stay in the tavern and eat, drink, and be merry with their stupid new names. But it really is tight quarters, and some might be curious to see what else is out there. Maybe there's another place to stay out there, or something. Maybe the Beast Alice spoke of is out there.

(Lost? Perhaps you're looking for the outside log or the event information.)

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"Nah, it's - whatever, man. I'm over it." Clearly not, or he wouldn't be withdrawing the way he is. Now he's definitely not gonna say the name he's been hit with for this event. That would raise way too many questions, ones he doesn't want to and in some cases can't answer.

Good thing he knows how to lie easy as breathing.

"Alabama. It's a dangerous place. They knew what they were getting into." This guy's a Tolkein-esque champion-type, near as he can tell, so maybe he'll assume they were all devoured by dragons or whatever the hell.

It's a fair guess that. Maybe not dragons - they're still thankfully uncommon - but if this Alabama is anything like Ferelden there's plenty of ways for the unwary to get themselves killed.

"Still." Someone knowing what they were getting into didn't make it any easier to accept when they died. But he can guess it's not something the other man wants to talk about.

Leaning forward, Alistair offers a tentative smile. "I'm the Bastard. And before you say anything, it means the illegitimate kind." After his earlier mistake though he'll take a dig or two over the title. He's heard it all before.

Wow. Looks like they both drew the short straws in their respective titles. He can't suppress his skeptical look, then a faintly amused snort. That's gotta really suck.

So if they're going for honesty -

No. No way. "The Puppet" just sounds shady, and it's not like he can think of a good justification for it. Does he look like a Geppetto type of person? Not particularly. That'd be a stretch.

Unfortunately, he can't scramble for an adequate lie in time.

"All right, you got me. I'm not the Queen of Sheba." Though with the suit and tie he might be able to fool someone into thinking he's more important than he actually is. "The Puppet. That's the shit name I get. What does it mean? Don't ask me. I've got no clue."

"You're not a queen? I can't believe you lied to me!" It really doesn't take much for Alistair to forget prior disagreements and make friendly with people he's just met once his temper has settled. It does help in this instance that they have something they can commiserate over.

"The Puppet? That's a bit worrying." It implies there's a Puppeteer around somewhere and no one would ever make out that that was a good kind of relationship. At least he knew where his title had come from, even if he doesn't get why he has to use it.

"So long as nothing bad has happened to make it make sense. Just warn me if you think you might be about to get possessed or something, OK? I hate people springing possessions on me, it's just rude."

He arches an eyebrow. "Is this a common thing where you come from?"

Maybe that makes it a little less creepy from Prince Ferrari's perspective - he's stuck with that nickname for now, though the Puppet's of the mind that he'd probably prefer it to his current given title in any case - but it doesn't change the fact that it sheds a lot of uncomfortable implications in terms of what he had to do to get the proverbial puppeteer off his damn back.

It also makes it a hell of a lot easier to bullshit his way out. The Bastard might be friendly-ing it up now that they're not at each other's throats, but that's not gonna get the Puppet divulging his entire life's story, particularly since it doesn't cast him in the most flattering of lights.

"I mean, I'm as stumped as you are." He shrugs. "I figured I'd get something like The Director or The Movie Guy, but this? It just kinda came outta left field."

"People getting possessed? It's not common but it does happen. Don't worry, it mostly only happens to mages. So unless you have magic you should be fine.... As far as the kind of demons I'm used to go." Which is not the most reassuring of answers. But there's probably not going to be any possession happening tonight. He hasn't seen a single actual demon in Wonderland so they should be fine, weird titles or not.

"Could... it be about something that is going to happen to you?" Again, thinking back to the whole king business if that had actually been his title.

"Actually, you know, maybe it's better not to go there. If you come from a place with no demons you can't get possessed so what am I talking about? That's just crazy, right?" Asking someone if they think they might end up getting possessed? Brilliant idea. So very helpful there Alistair.

He wrinkles his nose. That sounds even less appealing than the potential you-aren't-the-way-you-thought-you-were theoretical bullshit that he's guessing - guessing, mind, in no way setting that in stone - is where his little title comes from.

Besides, that particular puppeteer isn't a demon. Is it? He doesn't know, actually. He'd assumed it was a figment of nothing that got lost, somehow. He never spared much thought for it. He just always figured it was what it was: a nameless, formless, faceless thing.

"No, yeah. Pretty normal world. No demons, no magic. Just movies." He raises his camera halfheartedly and snaps a picture of the carpet. "Maybe I grow up to be a marionette enthusiast. Who knows."

Yeah. Who knows.

"Yours sounds way cooler." Then, he realizes he's gotta amend that: "your world, I mean. Not your, uh. Y'know."

Edited 2016-01-19 07:46 (UTC)

"I got that. But we could come up with a matching title for you if you wanted." Or not. The Puppet might be confusing and ominous but at least people weren't insulting him every time they addressed him.

The Bastard shrugs and goes on, "It's just home. Not all that special. I mean, you have-" He waves at the camera. "And the moving pictures. Those are incredible! And you said you make them, that's something no one can do where I'm from." The Puppet says it's not but it sounds like impressive magic to him.

"And trust me, no demons is a good thing. You don't want demons. No one in their right mind wants demons." And there were definitely non-possession explanations for a name like that. For example. "Maybe you're going to get... jerked around by someone. Manipulated." It's not a great reason but it's still better than possession. And he's trying - badly - to be helpful here and come up with an answer.

"Mm. Maybe."

He refuses to believe that he already has. He was doing the right thing. The right thing, by leading everyone the way he did. He stopped that twisted-up skinny thing dead in its tracks. It's like he's a hero.

"I mean, I guess my home's got its merits." Eager to turn the subject away from the semantics of his name, the Puppet fiddles with his camera. "You got - good TV. David Lynch. Half-life. Combos." He pauses, silently contemplating.

"Buuuut on the other hand, this place has no laws on drinking and no freaks with shotguns hanging out of pickup trucks. I think I'll take Wonderland."

Dropping the whole name subject is a good idea. He's got nothing much else to offer on the subject and if the Puppet doesn't know where his title came from already then it's all just useless speculation.

When the Puppet starts talking about his own home the Bastard nods along as if it all makes perfect sense, grinning cheerfully when he's done. "I almost understood the bit about drinking laws." Almost. Taverns must be strict wherever this guy is from. As for the rest? Well, he knows David Lynch must be a person. And yeaaah. That's it.

"You have to be one of the only people I know who prefers it here." But if all his friends are dead then being anywhere but where it had happened would be an improvement. "Don't get me wrong, there's some good things about being here but if you offered me a way home I'd take it."

"Really? You'd take demons and...whatever the hell a Fade is over this place?" He glances around the room. A little on the old-timey side, sure, and unsanitary, probably, but that's still gotta be on the nicer side compared to the threat of, say, possession or agonizing death.

"I mean, it's not great." He'll admit that readily. The memory thing? Total bullshit. The titles? Yeah, they're not really all that fun, but he shrugged this guy off his back without that much effort and left him none the wiser, right? "But I haven't seen anything that's gone further than, I dunno. Occasional inconvenience? Death is impermanent?" He shrugs loosely. "It's not a bad deal."

Making a face Alistair drops his head back to rest against the wall with a thump. "I have to job to do back home. And if I don't do it everyone could die. That's more important than my comfort." Or even his life if it comes down to it.

"It's not great either but I don't have much choice." Would he still want to go back without the looming threat of destruction hanging over Ferelden?

...Yes. He still had a duty even without the current danger and- "It's home." He fit in better in Ferelden than here and wouldn't trade his country for anything. "But if everything were fine there I wouldn't mind staying here for a while. It'd be like a holiday. It's the being stuck part I don't like."

"I guess," the Puppet says dubiously. He's still adjusting to the fact that not everyone has things they're running from. And not everyone is weirdly okay with getting hit by little bouts of amnesia, because not everyone is used to that.

Maybe he's just lucky like that.

"Well, uh." He shuffles to his feet, shrugging in a way that's meant to suggest nonchalance but lands somewhere between sheepish and uncertain. "I should go. I didn't actually want your bed. So. Sorry about that. I guess."

"Seriously?" After all the pestering and bickering earlier now he doesn't even want the stupid bed? "You just- Next time just throw a bucket of water on me and be done with it." At least that would be over with quickly and he could go back to napping. On wet sheets. "On second thought, don't."

He shakes his head and grins at the Puppet, getting his feet as well. The other man did apologise and with how crowded the tavern is he figures everyone is feeling a little short-tempered. "If you change your mind I'll be up again in a few hours." He'd rather not be caught unawares if something does happen while they're all here and he can get by on limited sleep for a few days won't if he has to. So until whatever has led to the change in the mansion is resolved it's short naps all the way.

"Just knock first, OK?"

Look, he's had a long night and it's about to get longer and all he really wanted was some fresh air and some space away from people. And as weird as this whole thing's been, bouncing here and about, he ended up getting what needed, which was a goddamn break.

He shrugs again, tiredly. "Just wanted some space, I guess. Crowded as fuck down there. Can't even breathe most of the time."

It's not such an exaggeration. And upstairs is better than outside, in the rain and murk.

"But, uh, I'll be sure to knock," he drawls, remarkably unconcerned given his next few words, "assuming you're still here and haven't been kicked out by someone with a bigger sword, or something."

"Hey now, it's not just the size, it's how well you use it!"

Completely oblivious to any other way that could be taken, Alistair moves back to sprawl out on the bed, eyes closing immediately. With any luck the Puppet is wrong and he won't be disturbed for the next few hours, bigger swords or not. Not likely, given how crowded the building is and the fact that sooner or later everyone is going to need to sleep but he can hope.

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Tavern Mingle (INSIDE) | OPEN

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