robowest | [ WEEK ONE

ARRIVAL

It's a surprisingly quiet ride. The passenger cart is nothing more than wood and a bit of cotton to cushion the seats but for some reason, even as the train hurtles along down the track, the cart remains silent. It only starts filling with noise when the passengers begin to stir.

There isn't any indication on how you got here. No grogginess, no injuries -- in fact, those who arrive with injuries might find them healed up completely (of course there are others who won't be so lucky) -- but in one blink and the next, you are here, on this train. Maybe you're even sitting next to a friend. Maybe a stranger.

Won't be any time to talk either, the train suddenly slowing down with enough of a jerk to throw its passengers back into their seats. A few seconds later, it comes to a complete stop and with a whistle, the doors open and a voice calls from outside. It's male, with a slight mechanical twang behind it and anyone who looks out the window towards the station can just about spot the portly man out on the platform.

"You might as well come on out, folks. You won't be getting any answers on the train."

Once everyone is out on the platform, the man stands before them taking an assessing look at each person. There is something very off about him, though he looks human enough -- but his eyes are too white, his skin too dry, and his hair is doesn't shine quite right. He is dressed in a flannel shirt, suspenders, and jeans, a cowboy hat atop his head and a badge pinned to his shirt that reads "Sheriff". After a moment, he gives a gruff nod and speaks again.

"Howdy. Real happy to see all of you. Explanations will come... Sunday morning, yeah. Give y'all a bit of time to meet each other. Settle in. Keys are on the table over there, hat and pistol in your room. Don't, er... Don't shoot each other right away but if you do, my office is over there. Go get some dinner, sun's about to set. Wouldn't want any coyote trouble."

And that seems to be... it. The Sheriff tips his hat and turns to head to the building with the large "Sheriff" sign on the front. There is a table nearby, keys neatly laid out for everyone with nametags attached to each one. An owl hoots in the distance and a breeze passes through the group. It's quiet again.

Welcome to game start! Characters will find their items in their hotel rooms and anyone who goes to visit the Sheriff after he leaves will find the station empty. On top of that, rulebooks will not be available to find until later. The Sheriff might be forcing it a little but it seems like the intent here really is to get everyone to interact with each other. If there are any questions, PM or hit up the plurk at

robowest!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[There's a lift of both eyebrows, and that skeptical edge comes back to his face. Psychiatrists and Percy don't exactly have a history, but he's seen one or two in his childhood thanks to the ADHD and dyslexia. Still, he's not entirely sure he's ever met one like Hannibal and it's enough to keep him curious and talking.]

Eight people a day. [Basic math isn't a problem, at least.] It makes it easier to be more personable with your patients then. That's why? [He doesn't see anything wrong with someone being proud of their work, even if he doesn't entirely know what to do with it.] No wonder you're going to end up being bored here.

[ Hannibal nods as he packs the box carefully, and it partially occupies his attention. Even in such a mundane task, he comes off as rather particular. With it, he gives a smooth explanation without missing a beat at all. Even though he has a generally quiet way about him, he's quite conversational. It fits the idea of a psychiatrist well. ]

Correct. I started off as a surgeon, but I found the work too depressing in practice. The personal connection of psychiatry is much more rewarding. I simply transferred what I loved about surgery to the culinary arts instead. The detail and precision are quite similar, though that may sound surprising.

[ The box is packed, and Hannibal looks up with a small smile before stepping back. He motions to it to indicate it's packed to his preference for Percy to take it, then moves to take the other. ]

But hopefully not too bored. I may have been overdue a vacation, so I might as well take it as that. Odd as it may be.

[Itemizing. Hannibal seems to be itemizing and has the same kind of precision in his tasks that Annabeth does. It's a trait he admires in her even if he finds it a bit much in other people. Still, it helps that the conversation is moving because Percy is much more at ease when silence isn't around.

When Hannibal indicates he takes the box, he'll grab it and heft it up into his arms with little effort, turning to follow his lead.]

Since surgery and cooking are about measuring and cutting it sort of makes sense? Kind of a morbid analogy, Mr. Lecter. [A beat.] Or Dr. Lecter, I guess. I don't think I could deal with being a surgeon either.

[Off they go.] Even if this isn't the ideal vacation at least you have Will. [Everything is better with friends.] I don't know how much I'd like this place if Annabeth weren't here, too.

Whichever you prefer. If I had a preference for "doctor," I would have introduced myself as such.

[ He elaborates on the small politeness lightly, since it really doesn't matter too much to him. Or at least, not enough to insist on one over the other. ]

Forgive me for the comparison, in that case. It is a bit morbid, so the metaphor perhaps only works in my head. It appeals to the same like of precision and care. [ His apology sounds perfectly genuine, if slightly wry for seemingly moving past the awkwardness. And not at all because he finds it funny that Percy picked up on what Will hadn't when he'd made this comparison before. ]

But regardless, you're quite right. We're both lucky to be here with friends, for any situation is improved with a kind hand to help. [ He nods towards Percy as another thanks, since he's speaking to Percy's help here too. But with that, he'll lead the way to the hotel ]

[And again he relaxes a bit after that. Okay. So this is good, Hannibal's pretty chill about things in that regard and Percy's glad for it. In return, the apology earns him another grin from Percy as he starts back for the hotel, clearly brushing it off as nothing right now.

Being back from Tartarus and actually speaking to other human beings again is...nice.]

You're not the first person I know who specializes in morbidity. Don't worry about it too much. [He's nice and oblivious as always.] We'll make the best out of it either way. You don't think other people here will be willing to help each other out? [He knows that's not quite what Hannibal means, but it's one of the last questions he has. It's something he's wondered since his discussions with people the evening before.]

[ And he doesn't worry about it in the slightest, in fact. Instead, he moves on thoughtfully to Percy's question, though his response comes quickly. ]

I believe that depends entirely on why we're here. I'm certain that some will, and some will not, since that's simply human nature. At least, in my experience. It's difficult to find groups of people who are wholly altruistic or wholly self-serving.

[ He cants his head to the side as a light gesture, as if conceding something ]

So the ratio itself is dependent on that "why."

[Would he consider himself altruistic or self-serving? Neither, really, and that's about where he gets tangled up in this mess of ideas. He qualifies himself as a hero, someone who will do what's best for the people he cares about and for the world. He knows there are people who might be difficult to convince, but he can hope.]

And we won't know "why" until the Sheriff decides to be more helpful and tell us what's up. Yeah, I get it. [There's a disappointed sort of sigh as they approach the hotel.] Even more reason it's not bad to make alliances right away. It's harder to say no to people when you're already friends.

[...so yes congratulations, Hannibal. Percy's already carefully slotting the man into someone he wouldn't mind helping in the future, too. This won't end poorly for anyone at all. It's a double-edged sword, but it's not something he'll bring up.]

I'm inclined to agree. An alliance and friendship would hardly seem to hurt in a strange situation.

[ Or at least, it won't hurt him. :)

Once they enter the hotel, Hannibal makes his way towards the kitchen, unsurprisingly. He'd considered storing everything in his room for a moment, but decided that he would likely be here long enough to take stock of how he's "sharing," intentional or not. ]

Here we are— You can set the box on the counter, and I'll tend to sorting it out.

[/casually screams internally. But anyway, he steps up to set the box on the counter, eyes sweeping the kitchen briefly before he nods in agreement. There's nothing wrong with that at all.]

I'll leave you to it, then. I should go find Annabeth anyway. [There's another curious little look before he turns.] See you around, Mr. Lecter. And thanks. [For what? He doesn't say, and he doesn't give him a chance to ask before he waves and steps out of the kitchen.]

[ WEEK ONE – ARRIVAL ]

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