robowest | [ WEEK ONE

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game: start

[ WEEK ONE – ARRIVAL ]

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!

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Then I wish you the best of luck. Either way, the answer to that question would be quite useful to know.

[ He opens his mouth to say something, but then seems to remember something. Hannibal laughs, then shakes his head lightly before he turns to face Percy fully. ]

Forgive me— I've just realized, all of this, and I've yet to introduce myself. Hannibal Lecter. It's a pleasure.

Thanks. I hope I can find some good news to bring back. [But he definitely doubts it.

He tilts his chin up when Hannibal introduces himself and...there's zero recognition of the name. Well, no, that's not true, he recognizes the name Hannibal but it also belongs to a war elephant. Given the way he grins it's obvious he's thinking about said-elephant, but he can push that aside.]

Percy Jackson. Kind of wish there were better circumstances but nice to meet you, too. There's a lot of us but I'm trying to get to know everybody who's here.

[ He introduces himself casually for a reason, because even though he gives his name easily, he's looking at Percy for a reaction. There's no extra interest in Hannibal's attention that makes it notable, but he's waiting for recognition. And yet, it doesn't come.

Just barely, his smile twitches upward, but it's perfectly in time with Percy giving his name. ]

So indeed. If the numbers in our rooms are identical, then there are forty of us. Forty-one if you count the sheriff. It's no small number, and at least from the faces I've seen, I have difficulty imagining a commonality between us all. It's very odd.

Edited 2017-01-16 07:20 (UTC)

[And thus Percy remains oblivious for one day more. He actually looks happy since Hannibal answered a question he's had since they all arrived (and he didn't think to actually count the rooms, too anxious to get out and explore), and in a way that helps him think they're on the same side in all of this.]

I didn't even think to check that way, but that's still way too many people for this to be a huge coincidence. But I don't know about that. I think we can all agree that the sheriff's a jerk. That's something we have in common, isn't it? [That is to say he hasn't found a pattern either and he thinks it's weird. He and Annabeth are already looking into it but so far no dice.]

Rude, to say the very least.

[ Which sounds mild, but that's a grave insult in Hannibal's book as well as one that's lightly threatening to anyone that might receive it. He has a certain bias against rude people. But! He nods all the same. ]

So, that's true. I doubt anyone holds a very positive opinion of him, though if that's the point of connection, it might as well be random. But at least for now, it brings us together. It's just an especially odd community.

[He's nodding in agreement even if it's too mild of a word for Percy to want to use.]

I mean...where I'm from, a lot of my friends and I met because we had one thing in common and it was a pretty loose thing. That might be all it takes. [He pauses then, looking at Hannibal's pile of cooking materials instead.] Think we're ever going to find out what it is? The common factor.

What was that common thread, if you do not mind me asking?

[ His tone is curious, but politely so. It's clear from his tone that if Percy doesn't want to elaborate, Hannibal would accept that answer without complaint. But he is curious, if only because he tends to be interested in what people have to say. Though to the question that Percy asks, Hannibal responds without pause. ]

We may. Or we may not. I'd like to be optimistic and hope for the former, but it could very well be random. Randomness would be a very unsatisfying answer.

[The tone is everything. It's not an interrogation and Percy's a little wary of explaining the truth still, but at the same time they're in a completely different place. Maybe it's not so bad? Buuuut on the other hand, it's probably better not to burden the nice man with how completely insane everything is.]

We all come from some pretty complicated families. [There's a hint of a smile, like there's more to it but he won't be saying so.] I met most of my friends at summer camp and this wouldn't be the first time I don't understand why I ended up somewhere with a bunch of strangers. It didn't take long to figure it out last time. But I don't care, there's no way this is random.

[Everything has a reason. Everything has a reason whether it's a prophecy, a prediction, or someone's determination. He nods to himself, like he's confirming he believes what he says and he looks up to meet Hannibal's eye.] I'd like to be optimistic, too.

[ It's a suitable enough answer that Hannibal doesn't feel the need to press any further. The truth of that common linkage is a bit beyond Hannibal (to say the least), so he goes for a more grounded explanation. Complicated families is a common enough euphemism that he draws a conclusion about the kind of summer camp it may be. Most people might change their tone in response, but Hannibal is also. Himself. ]

I see. Then for more optimism, I'll hope that it's as easy as it was the last time you found yourself in a similar situation.

[ He has a collection of ingredients by now, so Hannibal also collects a small box so that he can carry everything more easily. ]

In any case, you and your friend are quite welcome at my table. Without even my practice to attend to, I can only assume that I'll be filling my newfound free time with simpler pleasures.

[There's something like relief in his features when Hannibal doesn't press him to elaborate. It's easier that way for everyone involved.]

I don't know, it could stand to be a little easier. [But he notices that Hannibal's wrapping things up, and even with the box he's wondering on something.]

And thanks again. I'll let her know when we meet up again later. Annabeth is...[Man, how to describe Annabeth.] I'm sure you'll meet her soon if we're all here. It'll be fine. Do you need some help carrying everything back? [Even if Hannibal has a box, he's decided he doesn't mind offering anyway.]

[ He looks surprised, but it turns into a pleased smile as he nods ]

If I would not be troubling you, I'd appreciate it. Though if that's the case, I may as well double up. [ just how much does he plan on cooking? a lot ]

But I imagine you're correct. Even if forty is a strange number, it's still relatively small. [ Actually, thinking on it a bit more, the number seems to dawn on him, and he laughs briefly. He gathers another box, but with a bit more purpose, he goes to gather more ingredients. It really is just doubling up, since Hannibal knows what he tends to use most often. ]

As many patients as I would see in a week, at least. Nearly exactly, depending.

Nothing else to do here. [He tries to make it sound like it's more out of boredom but his expression gives away that he doesn't mind at all. It helps him to get to know what he's dealing with anyway. He approaches the first box, peering inside while Hannibal gathers the second.]

So...you're a doctor? [That would probably explain some of the pretentiousness but he's going to shut up about that until Hannibal confirms. Maybe he's, like, a foot doctor or something.] That's still a lot of people for one person to handle in a week.

Psychiatrist.

[ He (half) corrects gently, though Percy is mostly right. In every respect here. Hannibal is definitely pretentious, and even correcting him as slightly as that kind of fits with that. ]

And not so many. An hour's session with a patient, five days a week, and forty is quite reasonable. It tends to be a bit lower than forty, since some of my patients require more attention than others, and sometimes I take personal calls outside of normal hours. [ He raises his shoulders lightly in a somewhat humble shrug, but he does seem proud of his work. ] It is far less than a traditional doctor. It's why I enjoy the work, to be honest.

[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.]

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[ WEEK ONE – ARRIVAL ]

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