(no subject)

[gramarye]

[ the tall -- very tall, he's six-four -- blonde in the Vivienne Westwood blazer stops abruptly when he realises his surroundings have changed. there's an edge of panic to his expression when he puts a shaky hand against one of the walls like he expects it to pass right through, or for the walls themselves to dissolve or collapse. he is not reassured when neither happens. ]

I've never been here before.

[ that's a thought, not a statement, but considering he -- very unintentionally -- broadcast it to everyone in the room, it's not like it makes much difference. ]

Comments

[pridegoesbefore]

Say it with conviction.

[gramarye]

I'm sorry?

[pridegoesbefore]

Say it with conviction. "I've never been here before." You sounded panicked and unsure, which is generally considered a less than stellar way to arrive somewhere new.

[gramarye]

Oh... um. I'm sorry, then. I didn't -- didn't think I was speaking. Out loud.

[pridegoesbefore]

You were.

...this place won't hurt you, if that's your concern.

[ofalltrades]

There's a first time for everything. Are you alright?

[gramarye]

-- Fine.

[ he says this less as if he is and more as if he is damn well going to be. and then frowns, because he can't actually remember having said that out loud -- ]

Fine, thank you.

Uh... I think I am lost, though. Where is this, please?

[ofalltrades]

[Oh dear, that can't be good.] You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you. Would you like to sit? There's a bit of an explanation to it.

[gramarye]

[ a brief burst of mirthless laughter, then: ] I probably would.

[ he smiles then, which takes a little effort and looks awfully strained, but it's genuine. ] It's fine. Hit me.

[ofalltrades]

Alright, then. This place is commonly referred to as the Room, and the best description I've heard yet is that it's an interdimensional nexus. It's not so much a matter of where it is as where it's not, because as far as I know, this isn't anybody's home world. But everyone's home worlds intersect here through the doors. You can probably get through most of them, though the Room's sort of sentient and seems to have a strange sense of humor, so it's not a bad idea to be careful.

You'll find you have essentially limitless time at your disposal here, making it a welcome break from the outside world for many of its inhabitants. You can also ask the Room for most material possessions-- food, furniture, and the like-- but again, it's got a strange sense of humor. Give it a try, if you'd like.

[... Information-packed textwalls are kind of his job, okay.]

[wolfed]

[ Jonah glances up (way... up... this guy must be even taller than he is) from where he's sitting on a nearby couch and sets aside his phone; he'd been trying to read the news from an app despite the spotty signal in here. He watches the newcomer, the way he tests the walls, the pale tautness of his face. Speaking to oneself is fairly common around these parts, but there's something a little twitchy about this one, Jonah decides.

He likewise decides to quietly call out-- ]

--hey. Alright over there?

[gramarye]

I'm... fine, yes. Thank you.

Um. Where is this, though, please?

[wolfed]

Um, well. You're in a place most people call 'the Room'. Between worlds. I promise you're not, you know, hallucinating or anything, it's the real deal. Not-- that it makes walking in here any less inconvenient... [ He looks vaguely, awkwardly apologetic for one reason or another. Possibly for how idiotic all that sounds and for just throwing it out there without preamble? As compensation, maybe, ] ...I'm Jonah.

[gramarye]

Between worlds. Well. That's an improvement, I guess. [ he relaxes, although not much; he's wound up under the best circumstances, let alone magic kidnapping rooms. still, that explanation makes sense to him.

-- but he can't be here, which could mean any number of things. all of them are worrying. ]

Hello, Jonah. I'm Wolfgang.

[wolfed]

Hey. [ He smiles, at that, the lines around his mouth loosening a little. ] Yeah, it's. Kind of an interruption? Time usually doesn't pass, where you came from, till you go back.

[earthandfire]

[ It's not the words that catch his attention -- truthfully, he'd barely have noticed otherwise -- but it's the... manner of them, instead, the way they just seem to go right to his head, bypassing his ears entirely, and he is not one to miss a phenomenon like that. For that matter, he doesn't like it, because the mind is the most intimate thing and having a stranger's voice materialize inside it is not a welcome feeling...

Then again, he tries not to disregard intention. Whoever's voice that was didn't sound like they were doing it on purpose. The idea that someone can't help doing something like that is not a foreign concept to him. Neither is the fact that that can be scarier than being on the receiving end of it.

The point is, he takes notice. ]

Need a glass of water? You sound a little stressed.

[gramarye]

[ 'stressed' is a word for it, yes.

wolfgang has to search his memory to think about whether he had said that out loud, he had, hadn't he? but his memory's never been great; he probably just forgot that he had. the less disturbing explanation has to be the right one.

he makes an effort to not look so panicked, but he's not very good at dissembling. ]

Oh -- no, I'm fine, thank you, though. I, ah, wasn't expecting to be here.

[earthandfire]

[ The panic is all going into his voice, anyway; even the littlest tremors aren't hard to catch when you pay as close attention as Nile does. ] It happens to a lot of people by accident. I think you can leave if you catch your door before it changes -- if not, you're probably meant to be here for some reason. That's what I figure, anyway.

[gramarye]

Oh --

[ his face falls and he looks a little ashen. ] Please don't tell me it chooses people.

[ because he's had quite enough of that, thanks. ]

[earthandfire]

Uh... maybe? [ Aww, more distress. Now he feels bad. ] Look, I don't know. Some people come and go whenever they want so maybe not. Nothing actually... happens. At least as far as I've noticed.

[washtheblood]

Vivienne Westwood. And tall. Taller than he was and he was tall. Model perhaps? Should be. So lithe and fragile looking; so very androgynous. Johnson does nothing when the man enters but watch from elsewhere in the room. If you must, he himself is wearing Oscar De La Renta. Three piece. Black. White shirt. Black tie. Polished Oxfords. Omega watch. Black leather gloves.

He just watches for a moment. Watches the way this man moves; the way his expression tugs and pulls and after a good moment he pushes himself out from that little corner he'd tucked himself in to and speaks. English accent sharp and posh.

"Welcome, then."

[gramarye]

Wolfgang startles visibly. He's not the most observant person, although he ought to be, and he never notices when people are watching him. He gives one sweeping glance, seeing a well-dressed (of course he notices)and slightly older man, before his eye contact becomes sporadic and nearly furtive. That's shyness, nothing more.

Stifling the urge to apologise for being jumpy (he'll apologise for breathing unprompted), he reins in what he knows is an expression of panic and fear and tries for something more casual. Like he's fine. (Did he say that out loud? He thought he thought it, but he must have.) "Oh -- um, thank you." He's Israeli; that's obvious when he speaks, his accent is terribly thick. "I'm sorry, where...?"

[washtheblood]

You're in luck, dear stranger, he cares not if you show interest or not. In him, that is. What is outside the body is, more common than not, simple puppetry. Worth nothing, essentially. Exceptions and scenarios aside. Never mind that though. Very, hm. Nervous individual, this one. Suppose that's a common reaction to ending up somewhere you don't know.

But he doesn't look it much at all, not like Edion and their crew from Syria. That accent of course is noticed though. And known. And even understood. Although his Arabic is very poor. "Not quite sure, to be frank. Are you alright? -- For landing in an unknown place, that is. Seems to be, from what I've gathered, everywhere and no where."

[gramarye]

"Oh, no, I'm fine, thank you." He is not fine, but he's going to make himself be fine, which largely comprises of faking it until it becomes reality, and that is the opposite of irony.

This room doesn't feel right, but he's not going to say that to a stranger. It's wrecking havoc on his ability to sense anything, which means he either needs a focus -- involving time and set up that would likely draw attention -- or to stop bothering, which is easier. And less tiring. He tries out a smile instead. "I'm... gathering it exists somewhere out of time, at least."

[washtheblood]

Fake it until you make it and all that. Wasn't that just a fact of survival. Oh, no. No one need to tell Johnson here just what the mind can do and make one believe or make one strive for or reversibly utterly destroy a person.

"Seem like. There's never any pattern as to when people come and go."