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Post by Atlas on Dec 1, 2010 5:21:57 GMT -8
Atlas watched everyone file into the dining hall. Although it was certainly enough to fit all of them plus ten times as many more, he was surprised at the number of people that showed up. "And here I thought I was having a quiet breakfast on my own. At least this will give me a chance to play meet and greet. By the way, I probably shouldn't say anything about the relationship between Charlotte and that suited. Last time, I assumed that she was married to the hawk man, and was way off the mark." he thought.
Kaysen was one of the last people into the room. He looked considerably dryer, as did Willie. "Oh no, it's quite alright, Mr. Kaysen." Atlas replied. "Can't exactly get rainwater all over your breakfast, now can you?" he added.
Willie was with him as well, looking a bit dryer. He knelt down to the dalmatian and stroked his head. "Feeling a bit dryer, Willie?" he asked. "You've got a nice hotel room where you can stay dry, though I bet you wish it was a bit sunnier out so you can run around outside." he added.
When Kaysen talked about the breakfast, he began to sniff, taking in the aroma. Bacon, sausage, pancakes. And not the cheap generic kind either, this was the good stuff. "I suppose it's good to spoil myself every once in a while."
He looked around for an empty table, which took him all of five seconds. He pulled out a chair for himself and Kaysen and took a seat. "Now, how many guests will I have to play host to..."
He thought he could vaguely make out the sound of someone yelling threats from the lobby. "Geez man, can't you threaten to suicide bomb the building for losing your wife AFTER I have breakfast!"
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Polly
Junior Member
What's that? Oh dear, I'm afraid we're all out of pepper.
Posts: 88
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Post by Polly on Dec 1, 2010 8:13:26 GMT -8
Polly was busy in the loud, full dining room, and never would have heard the service bell at the front desk. Fortunately, the guest needing help was kind enough to shout threats at the top of his lungs as well. She put the tray full of pancakes she was holding--completely coincidentally--down by Atticus's elbow and went to see what the commotion was.
What she was expecting to see was an ill-tempered person needing a room. What she actually saw was bruised and battered Tamika putting a bandage on the wrist of an angry-looking, blood-spattered man with green hair. Polly, girl, you've really got to work on your timing.
She stood there for a long moment trying to think of what on earth to say. "Er...ah...is everything all right?" was what finally came out, although she could see it obviously wasn't. A little more confidently, she walked over to the desk and asked, "Should I call the hospital, the police, or both?"
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Post by David Young Henning on Dec 1, 2010 12:09:05 GMT -8
Well, this wasn't so bad, Henning decided. Kaysen and the lawyer were sitting elsewhere, and the redhead had vanished back into the lobby along with Polly. Compared to yesterday, the activity level in the hotel seemed to have accelerated from 0 to full speed in very short order. Still, he thought he had a pretty good view of the rest of the room. He smiled as Charlotte sat across from him, her hair still dripping wet from the rain, and spread his arms as if seeing her again for the first time.
"Well! Now that we've had a chance to catch our breath, you must tell me everything you've been up to! You seem to be familiar with a lot of people here already. Are you doing all right up here by yourself?" More and more, he was regretting not staying in touch. She looked happy enough, though. He hadn't realized, up until this point, what a relief it would be to have someone in town who knew who he was, even if nobody else did.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Dec 1, 2010 15:02:25 GMT -8
It worked out it my favour for once, Charlotte thought in surprise. Atticus, Kaysen and Willie were at another table, and both Polly and Tamika had gone back out to the lobby for the moment. Leaving her seated alone with David. I guess we get to catch up sooner rather than later. She was surprised at how nervous that made her. Then again, theirs was an interesting, rather unique history. No wonder she wasn’t quite sure how to do things.
She sat back, running a hand through her wet hair. She probably should have run up to her room and dried off, but it just hadn't seemed that important. Charlotte smiled.
“Everything I’ve been up to?” she laughed. “I was travelling, mostly. When I... left, I just sort of kept moving. Never stayed too long in one place. Ended up seeing a lot of interesting things as a result, though. Focused a lot on photography. I probably took far more photos than were really necessary, but at the beginning, I... needed the distraction.”
Distraction... that’s putting it mildly. When she’d left North Carolina after selling the house and taking care of any final details, she had been desperate for things to keep her from thinking about what had happened. It was bad enough she revisited it in her dreams. Reading had been too passive, allowing her to think too much. So she had taken to exploring wherever it was she ended up at any particular moment at any and all hours of the day and night, taking photographs.
“I drove through Greenvale a few months ago, got a room here... and ended up staying a while,” Charlotte continued. There wasn't much more she could tell him about what she'd been up to, so she moved on.
“I’m vaguely familiar with a few, at least. Met the lawyer and the other redhead; whose name’s Tamika, by the way, in the graveyard yesterday. Along with someone else. Strange guy, dyed part of his hair green. Also; he had a hawk. Never got his name, though. And I’m doing all right up here by myself.” She grinned at him. “Though it’s always nice to see a familiar face.”
It was... weirdly nice, having him in town. She had gotten so used to not really knowing anyone that now that she did... it surprised her just how much she enjoyed it.
“So, what about you? What have you been up to? That you can tell me, anyway.”
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Post by Wes Uccello on Dec 1, 2010 19:34:58 GMT -8
Wes watched the rather jovial, large man as he emerged from the hall and entered the double doors. Noting that the man had a smile he didn't trust and loathe to look him in the eyes, he tried peeking into the dining hall as the doors opened but wasn't eagle-eyed enough to make out what was inside, other than that it was a pretty huge room.
Soon enough, the doors were open again, and a familiar face came running out. It was the perky one from the graveyard. Hm. She didn't seem quite so perky today; her face was tired and she looked a little roughed up, too.
"Whoa, what happened? Knife fight with zombies? Tripped over a gravestone?" His voice was somewhere between genuinely curious and accusatory. He held out his wrist; his hand was shaking, and he didn't look as focused as usual.
Still, he noticed as another person emerged from the spacious dining hall, an elderly woman. He didn't respond to her the first time she spoke up, but heard the second question and frowned. Was that some kind of hint, and grandma was trying to call the cops on him?
"No need for police, unless you can have them arrest the idiot who put the hospital out in the middle of nowhere..."
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Post by David Young Henning on Dec 1, 2010 20:14:43 GMT -8
Henning felt his heart skip a beat when he heard Charlotte's description of the man she'd met at the graveyard. He'd just received an e-mail from Agent DiMera before he'd left the hotel, only hours before, and now this... He would bet a million to one that the "Mr. Wess" he'd seen in the diner (whose real identity Henning was now sure of- the mention of the hawk cinched it) was the nameless falconer Charlotte had run into, which meant she had unwillingly crossed paths with the son of a dangerous mobster. He leaned across the table and tried to make himself seem serious without frightening her.
"Charlotte, that man with the hawk... This is going to sound strange, but I have a funny feeling that I know who he is, and if my hunch is correct, I think you should stay away from him. Please don't ask me about it. I still have to figure a few things out before jumping to any conclusions, but..."
Henning realized he had put his hand protectively over hers, the exact same gesture he'd made almost two years ago, trying to comfort her as she lay curled up in the hotel armchair, sobbing her heart out. And here they were again, in a hotel, him trying to save her from... What? His intuition? The boogeyman? Having her eyes plucked out by a savage bird? Except, she wasn't crying this time. In fact, she'd been laughing, eyes sparkling as she described her hobbies, the people she'd met, what she'd been up to during that hazy period he'd spent lying comatose in a Massachusetts hospital...
Such strange parallel lives we lead, he thought as he took his hand away. He suddenly wanted to hear more about Charlotte's life, a life beyond walls, a life that wasn't afraid of standing out in the rain without an umbrella. He waved his hand as if his previous statement had been nothing more than a bothersome fly.
"...but that's neither here nor there. I wish I could say I've been as active as you; unfortunately, like I said, I've been laid up for the past few months. The result being I honestly don't have much to talk about... And compared to you, I feel positively dull! I'm sure you make a wonderful photographer. Do you have anything of your work I could look at? I'd love to see it..."
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Post by Tamika Weir on Dec 1, 2010 20:29:06 GMT -8
"If I didn't know better, I'd swear these people are toying with me." This was the second time someone had guessed exactly what happened and yet said it as a joke, completely unaware of the truth in the words.
"Nothing so spectacular," Tamika answered calmly while pulling out some gauze pads, "Just the normal variety of trouble." She held Raincloud's hand in her left hand and lightly pressed a gauze pad on wound with her right. Tamika noted the shaking in his wrist and wondered if there was something else wrong besides the cut. "What about you? Bird take offense to your hand today?"
"Everything's alright out here Polly. Raincloud here just needed his hand bandaged. No axe murderers, terrorists, or angry men from the IRS," Tamika called out to the elderly woman that had just entered the room. Tamika kept her calm voice but smiled slightly at the last part. Thinking that most of the bleeding had probably stopped by then, Tamika grabbed a couple more gauze pads and placed them over the first. She then secured the gauze pads in place with some medical tape.
"That should be good enough for now." Tamika took two gauze pads and handed them to Raincloud. "Here. You can use these if it starts bleeding again." She then put the first aid kit away. While doing so, she said to Raincloud, "By the way, we're serving breakfast right now. If you would like anything to eat, just head into the dining room. I think Polly made pancakes."
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Dec 1, 2010 20:54:05 GMT -8
Charlotte blinked in surprise as David warned her away from the birdman. Did he know who he was? He must know his name... or thinks he does. He’d grown serious as he’d leaned across the table to talk to her, so whoever the birdman might be must be... someone David thinks is dangerous.
She glanced down, to see his hand covering hers protectively. He’s still trying to protect me. The thought made her smile. Even as déjà vu washed over her (sobbing in a hotel chair, a warm hand covering hers), he removed his hand.
She could still feel it, though.
Charlotte couldn’t help but reach out and mirror what he’d done just a moment ago, and put her hand over his as he talked about being laid up. There was more to it, she knew there was. But she also knew that in all likelihood he couldn’t tell her any of it.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she told him. “I... wish I’d known. I could have... visited you. Or something.” Feeling her face grow warm, she removed her hand from his, and offered him a shy smile. “Thank you for thinking so. I have a box of photos I’ve taken up in my room somewhere, if you’re sure.”
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Post by Wes Uccello on Dec 1, 2010 21:23:49 GMT -8
Wes had, of course, just been trying to make a joke about their previous meeting place, and continued on completely unaware that at least one of the guesses was right.
"What kind of normal trouble is less spectacular than tripping over a gravestone?" he said with a smirk, trying to keep the attention away from him. It didn't work, of course, as she immediately went and guessed what happened to him, too.
"Good guess, but it's none of your business." His tone was annoyed, probably just because she was right. He retracted his hand as soon as she was finished, and made it a point not to say anything else about it, taking the extra gauze with his good hand and sticking them in his pocket. He realized that he probably looked even worse than he did after rolling out of bed; hair still unbrushed but rained on, shirt still untucked, coat still unzipped, but now with blood on the sleeve.
"You're sticking with that Raincloud thing, huh?" He thought it was pretty funny, assigning a stranger a nickname and sticking with it through the next day. Then he started considering her offer; on the one hand, the number of footprints said that he probably didn't want to go in there. On the other hand... He was in the middle of nowhere, far from his house and food, on his way further out into the middle of nowhere and further from his house and food. He'd skipped breakfast and was feeling it. Injured and unfed was a pretty bad combination. Maybe some food would improve his mood.
"...I'll probably take you up on that," he said, and waited for her to lead the way. His head was still so cloudy...
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Post by Tamika Weir on Dec 1, 2010 21:53:05 GMT -8
"Um...tripping over thin air?" That wasn't originally going to be her excuse for her injuries, and she was sure he wouldn't buy it. "Well that's his problem then."
She smiled at his annoyed response to her question. "Do you enjoy not giving any information or are you just REALLY paranoid?" He didn't seem to like that the conversation had turned toward his injury. To be polite, she did not bring it up again, though was tempted to.
"Raincloud has a better ring to it than Green Hair Man or That Guy with the Bird." Tamika shrugged while saying this, her voice seeming indifferent. "I would call you by your name, if you told me it," she stated while looking at him with a fake hopeful expression. Tamika already knew his response.
"Alright, the dinning room is back there through the double doors." Tamika pointed at them, but then noticed that Raincloud appeared to be waiting for her. "What angle are you playing, Raincloud?" "Well, follow me then." She walked in front of him to the doors then held one open for him. "You just go in and pick a table. Or would you prefer I led you to one?"
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Post by Forrest Kaysen on Dec 2, 2010 0:37:18 GMT -8
Kaysen waved his hand with a laugh, letting Willie entertain Atlas for the moment while he surveyed the people in the room. Why, he would have to introduce himself proper to some of them...they didn't know him, after all. He made it his business to know everyone in this little town. Greenvale was like family to the traveling salesman.
And all these people were like termites intruding on his family reunion.
Despite the sordid thoughts, his expression remained jolly...he mannerisms remained jovial. Nothing he did suggested any more than a typical curiousity about the people around him as he looked them all over in turn while they milled about. The redhead who had stopped and the man in the suit. A shorter redhead he hadn't met just yet. Polly, of course. Someone new was entering, someone loud and angry. And then, of course, there was Atlas.
When Willie was finished being petted, he turned back to his companion for the moment, sitting a little sideways with his elbow on the table. "Boy, the weather we're havin' - gotta love the Northwest, huh? More fickle than a woman tryin' to pick out some new shoes." Clearly, this was a man who enjoyed his metaphors. "Good for the trees, though, so I don't really mind. Too muddy for plantin', though!"
Even as he spoke, he kept one eye on the crowd.
...All of this could play to my advantage...if I play my cards right.
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Post by Wes Uccello on Dec 2, 2010 0:46:47 GMT -8
Thin air? Wes really wasn't buying that one either. "You sound sure about that," he said sarcastically.
A little bit of column A and a little bit of column B, really. He really was pretty paranoid, but he also liked annoying people.
"I don't know... I'm pretty used to 'bird guy.' 'Green hair man' is a pretty new one." He noticed her ever-so-subtle hint and considered giving her a fake name. it was strange. He didn't usually have that big of a problem telling his name, and this was a girl he just let tend to his wound. But he couldn't get the word out of his lips. The concept of having these people know it really bothered him right now, and he didn't know why.
"I like Raincloud," he said plainly, brushing his hair out of his face.
Holding his head, he followed her along into the dining hall and finally surveyed its occupants. There weren't quite as many as he'd expected from the size of the room, but still enough to add some extra anxiety to the dizziness and bad mood. There was the large man he watched enter, sitting with that lawyer from the graveyard. He decided to imagine them as a couple, just out of spite. At another table was the other redhead from the graveyard... was this just a group that always hung out together? She was sitting with a man in a suit...
Wes tried not to stop short. That was the man from the diner, the one who ignored the guy in the gas mask to look at him. This man had been heavy on the falconer's mind since then. he was simply not as interesting as the others. There had to be a reason for the stare, and Wes didn't like and of the one's he'd come up with. He deliberated what to do. Try to ignore him? In such a big, open dining hall, this guy could watch him from anywhere. He wasn't going to just sit around like the victim of a sniping.
Pointedly not saying anything to Tamika, Wes made his way over to the suited man's table and sat a few seats down from Charlotte.
"Good morning," he said, either calmly or weakly, leaning against the table on his elbows.
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Post by Atlas on Dec 2, 2010 6:29:02 GMT -8
Polly left the scene to see who was threatening to blow up the Deer Yard Hotel, leaving the plate of pancakes by Atlas. I'm sure she won't mind if I take a couple. This was originally intended to be my personal treat. he thought. He used his fork to place a couple of hot, fluffy pancakes onto his plate. He looked around the table for the Maple Syrup.
Charlotte and the suited man were at another table, talking about...something. Atlas had noted that they seemed quite close with each other, which created further questions in his mind. "Now I really got to figure out who this guy is and how he relates to her. Is he her boyfriend? Brother? Father that looks really young for his age? Or even a gay best friend." none of those scenarios seemed likely to him and without more information, he was in the dark.
Atlas listened to FK's description of the weather. "This guy has more metaphors than a noir cop game. he thought. "What can I say, mother nature has always been a crazy individual and she just so happens to dump the majority of rainfall here." he replied.
Around this time, the shouting terrorist was entering the room, turning out to be none other than hawk man. Geez, now the whole graveyard party is here. It feels like there's some supernatural beings dragging us all into the same location for their amusement. he mused. He wondered what could have happened to him. Gang fight? Argument with the boyfriend? Knitting accident? The possibilities ran though Atlas's head as he decided to sit next to Charlotte and the suited man.
Speaking of suited man, he decided to finally ask the question:
"Alright, FK. No secrets between friends, alright. What do you know about that guy in the suit over there talking to Charlotte?"
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Polly
Junior Member
What's that? Oh dear, I'm afraid we're all out of pepper.
Posts: 88
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Post by Polly on Dec 2, 2010 9:18:20 GMT -8
Polly had listened quietly to Tamika and this mysterious Raincloud person while they took care of his wound, and then returned just as quietly to the dining room, wondering why so many injured people kept turning up today. Tripped over thin air, did you? Did you do that while you were in the bar? Or did someone wait 'till you stepped outside first? Polly pressed her lips together, grimly remembering those old nights when she'd wait up what seemed like forever for her own daughter to get home from the bars, only to get in a much more verbal fight. She looked over at Tamika and suddenly felt guilty. She had no right putting all her past history on this girl just because she felt motherly. She'd try and find a way later on to make up for dismissing Tamika's injuries this morning.
She picked up her tray, noticing it was quite a bit lighter than when she had put it down. Ah well, that's what the pancakes were there for, weren't they? To feed people? She smiled at Atticus. "I hope this old goat isn't eating all the food on you! I try and try, but I just can't fill him up," she said teasingly. "How are you, Kaysen? It seems like ages since you've been here." She smiled and moved her cheek toward Kaysen for a kiss. She thought about the glances she kept seeing Kaysen shoot toward Mr. Henning, and wondered if he was interested in him. Kaysen, she knew, would chase anything that moved. She wasn't sure about Henning, especially since he kept leaning closer to that nice-looking girl he was sitting with. But you never knew these days, did you? She thought about introducing them, but Kaysen being Kaysen, he'd probably do that on his own later on.
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Post by David Young Henning on Dec 2, 2010 9:30:54 GMT -8
Henning almost stood up from his chair when he saw the sharp-faced man from the diner walking into the room, but managed to compose himself in time. Then he nearly did it again when the man sat, deliberately it seemed, on Charlotte's side of their table. To top it all off, the guy was greeting her as if he knew her! There was no way the man could have heard Henning's warning to Charlotte, but it still felt somehow provocative.
He suddenly wished Charlotte hadn't taken her hand away at that moment... Just more bad timing. He could have taken her somewhere else, suggested another place to eat, but that would have been unnecessarily dramatic. There was no evidence this man had been up to anything suspicious... Except for the blood splatters on his sleeve and the fresh bandages on his right hand.
Wesley Uccello... Mr. Wes. Daddy Uccello. Nicolae Lupan, dead in a ditch with tears of blood running down his face. The names and images that DiMera had sent him earlier played in a gruesome slideshow through Henning's head, toxic quick cuts and jittery camera angles obscuring clarity. Making no secret of his awareness of the man's presence at their table, Henning leaned back and muttered under his breath:
"Mission control, the eagle has landed..."
Then he smiled. There hadn't been any reason for the comment, or the smile. He stared contemplatively over Charlotte's shoulder and said, if talking to no one in particular, "I'm getting famished! Those pancakes sure smell good. What do you think, Charlotte?"
He looked into her eyes, trying to get back to the pleasant morning of a few seconds ago, but all he could see was Wesley Uccello... Mr. Wes. Daddy Uccello. Nicolae Lupan, dead in a ditch with tears of blood running down...
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