Daniel Barker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
livinlavitaeloca) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2013-09-30 08:48 pm
livinlavitaeloca) wrote in entranceway2013-09-30 08:48 pm
video ; diary 1 ; the best part of waking up is what where the fuck am i
[ Daniel wakes up in his hotel room in the village of Altstadt. He is definitely in Altstadt, and certainly not in a room in Wonderland which has styled itself to look exactly the same. And, it logically follows, this room is definitely not broadcasting a video of him without his knowledge or consent.
THAT ESTABLISHED,
Daniel springs out of a restless sleep and sits up on the edge of his bed, blinking in the morning light. It must be earlier than it looks, because nobody has come to knock him up, and he definitely asked to be knocked up at 7am promptly. He was very clear in asking to be knocked up.
They'd better not have forgotten. Might they have done? This is sort of a ghetto guest-house, if you want his honest opinion. There's not even a bell he can ring to call a servant.
Okay, Daniel doesn't have time to be annoyed by the inconveniences of rural life. His thoughts are too full of the last leg of his journey, which will be undertaken today, to the castle where he might finally find some safety -- so he stands up quickly, steps away from the bed. Lacking a clock, he just assumes he's late, and starts to undress hurriedly out of his woolen cap and night-shirt.
The network is still definitely not there, but if it were, it would probably now be broadcasting an early Victorian strip tease. ]
(( ooc: info and permissions post! [x] ))
THAT ESTABLISHED,
Daniel springs out of a restless sleep and sits up on the edge of his bed, blinking in the morning light. It must be earlier than it looks, because nobody has come to knock him up, and he definitely asked to be knocked up at 7am promptly. He was very clear in asking to be knocked up.
They'd better not have forgotten. Might they have done? This is sort of a ghetto guest-house, if you want his honest opinion. There's not even a bell he can ring to call a servant.
Okay, Daniel doesn't have time to be annoyed by the inconveniences of rural life. His thoughts are too full of the last leg of his journey, which will be undertaken today, to the castle where he might finally find some safety -- so he stands up quickly, steps away from the bed. Lacking a clock, he just assumes he's late, and starts to undress hurriedly out of his woolen cap and night-shirt.
The network is still definitely not there, but if it were, it would probably now be broadcasting an early Victorian strip tease. ]
(( ooc: info and permissions post! [x] ))
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Daniel's going to stop fighting that point for the moment. ]
I-it...
[ He leans out, and checks, and feels like he's moving through a haze. ]
It seems to be eleven.
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[While the prospect of checking each floor for an open door and an open-mouthed young man staring through it is a little daunting, Evelyn finds her quest substantially easier when she steps out of her room and realises it's the one right across the hall.]
...oh. That was easy. Are you all right?
[Besides, well, slightly catatonic?]
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He gives the screen a wide-eyed look to confirm that yes, the lady's face is gone from it. And now she's standing right in front of him in the flesh. Well, that's... that's certainly...
As the walls shift like ink in water he puts out a hand to the doorframe to steady himself. ]
I'm -- good God, what have you done with me?
[ well I mean she's RIGHT HERE so clearly whatever has happened is all her fault ]
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[she points out, lofting an eyebrow.]
I simply walked across the hall to greet you.
[Evelyn extends a hand, not entirely sure if handshakes are in vogue in the early 1800s but willing to take that chance if it means getting a straight answer out of him.]
I'm Evelyn O'Connell.
the tag so hot it crashed safari
[ Daniel trails off in fear and bewilderment and every other 'why' emotion you care to name.
He has enough composure left to either a) figure out what to do next or b) keep from going to pieces like a dropped Orb. And option B seems more important for the immediate moment, so when Evie offers her hand and introductions he sort of goes with it. Because that's what normal people do! Normal people in normal situations that aren't completely insane ha ha hahahaha!!!
...Handshake. Right. That. He shakes her hand weakly. ]
Daniel Barker. Of Mayfair. I think... I may be lost.
too much for the internet to handle
That's a fairly accurate conclusion to draw, dear.
[She is still capable of feeling pity, too. Evie loops an arm in one of his and begins gently steering him down the hallway.]
Why don't we have a cup of tea and I can explain things?
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But...
[ Despite his protest, Daniel is overwhelmed enough that he proves quite easy to steer.
He almost says something about how an unattended lady is inviting him for tea. But, all things considered, wondering when he tripped and fell into the beginning of a porno is the least of his worries. ]
I cannot stay here. It's dreadfully important that I get to Brennenburg Castle, and -- hold, how did you know my name?
[ Now that Evie's turned out to be a real person, and not an illusion of his mind, that detail stands out. Heck, now that she's a real person wait a minute oh shit ]
My God! You saw me undressed!
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I've seen worse, [she states plainly, because reanimated corpses rank higher on the weirdness scale than a pale English arse (and she's witnessed enough of Jonathan's drunken antics to know pale English arse when she sees it).] As for your name, it's...complicated.
[Complicated enough that she's thinking about how explaining this might be more difficult than previously anticipated. Evie leads him to the second floor parlour, shutting the door behind them.]
What year is it for you, Daniel?
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The same year as it is for everyone else, I should hope, [ he says, though the attempt at levity is about as weak as his handshake. He eyes the closed door. ]
That is... 1839. But please, how far am I from Altstadt?
[ Man, he's like a broken record, or at least a very stressed-out one. ]
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You're not in Altstadt, Mister Barker...or anywhere near it, for that matter. We're in a place called Wonderland-
[And she's almost positive that he wouldn't know about it even if it came out in his time; it is a children's story, after all. Evelyn gives him an apologetic look.]
I don't want to worry you, but there are a great deal of us stuck here. We can't leave, not...not at will.
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[ He looks, for a moment, as if the floor's dropped out from under him. ]
Why? But I must!
[ How did he get here?? How's he going to protect himself if he can't get to Brennenburg??? ]
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[Oh, here it comes. Frankly, Evelyn is surprised that she took it so bloody well the first time around -- but then, given the circumstances, being reasonable was about as much as she could do. Appearing in a strange foyer in one's wet nightgown is startling enough.]
Now see here, you oughtn't fret, wherever you came from, it- time stops there, it's as if you never left. As if you were just here for the interim, a provisional arrangement for an indeterminate period.
[It's a little more difficult putting it into terms that he might understand.]
When you leave - whenever that is - you pick up right where you left off back home. But here it's just...it's just you, nothing else from your world unless you've brought it with you on your person.
[You know, pocket squares, handkerchiefs, parasites, pieces of Orb, to name a few examples.]
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I beg your pardon?
[ Time stopping and 'from your world' and-- ]
What sort of a place are you making this out to be?
[ He manages to laugh a little, with the vague hope that she'll laugh along and say she was kidding and there's the door, Prussia's a mile or two down the road. Because she can't seriously be serious with what she's saying, after all. Right? ]
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[she hazards tentatively, adding a grimace (not for theatrical effect, but because she feels terrible that she's not explaining it all that well).]
People have, ah- likened it to a sort of Purgatory.
[Perhaps that will sound more familiar.]
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and furthermore that's still really unsettling. Uh... you'll forgive Daniel for looking at Evie as if she's a little bit mad, as hypocritical as that might be. ]
I... suppose you have some evidence of its being a different world?
[ If she doesn't have it, then maybe she'll start talking some sense. Maybe even let him go. That would be real nice.
If she does have it, then uh... well, she won't, or he'll eat his hat. ]
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[Oh, don't let someone whose monarch is probably William IV walk around here unprepared, old mum.
Evie nods after a brief moment of deliberation before moving over to one of the parlour's many curio cabinets, fingers resting on the little door's handle.]
The closets and cupboards here are- [What had he called it back then?] -sorcerous. Name something, anything that isn't a personal belonging of yours. If I want a tea setting for two with biscuits and extra lemon curd, all I have to do is think about it.
[She opens the cabinet door to show him. The aforementioned tea setting is there on the shelf, contents steaming, the smell heavenly.]
And there it is.
[She's not a witch.
Really.]
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Daniel's opinion of witchcraft and sorcery goes something like this:
1) wowowowowow fake mediums and people burning witches for having a freckle, surely we're all much more grown up than that in the 19th century
2) then again, there's been a lot of weird inexplicable juju lately and he's sort of... wondering, secretly, whether he'll have to revise his assumptions a bit
3) but don't tell anyone he said that
So his expression is a bit 'really?' when she says they're sorcerous. And then, afterwards, a bit 'WHOA' when she brings out the tea and biscuits. ]
Why, that is--
[ Clever use of mirrors? A tea set prepared in advance? You've gotta remember, the Victorian age is full of people who turn a buck by creating ghosts with slight of hand and vanishing elephants through trap-doors. Though a tricky voice in the back of his head says: what possible use could she have for deceiving him so? ]
--ah, terribly interesting; though I have to suspect a false back to the cabinet and an accomplice delivering the tea.
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An accomplice,
[she says flatly, lofting an eyebrow.]
Then perhaps you can ask my accomplice to give you something, Mister Barker.
[Evelyn steps back, gesturing to the cabinet.]
Unless you're worried that I'm not completely mad and you'll have to find some way to internally resolve your doubts.
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Of course I am not!
[ daniel calm your panties you don't have to look like a cool guy in front of everyone ]
Perhaps I will have a -- ah, but I shaln't even say it aloud.
[ Here, finally, is a chance to disprove some of this latest truckload of craziness that's been dumped on him since he awoke. So he actually strides over to the cabinet a bit eagerly, and pulls open the door. ]
You see? There is n...
[ Except there is.
The sentence dies on his tongue and he stares, mouth still forming the shape of a letter 'o', at the small silver pot and steaming mug of spicy chocolate. ]
1/?
Regardless, Evelyn gives him The Look™.]
2/4
3/4
4/4
You were saying?
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It looks like a mug of chocolate. Smells like a mug of chocolate. Feels (owthat'shot) like a mug of chocolate. By the usual pattern of his visions, this wouldn't be one. ]
It...
[ Digging his heels in and denying this is just a recipe for stress and argument, and it won't help him if he's already lost his wits. So, gently and nervously, he lets himself edge down this new road. ]
...certainly seems... compelling evidence.
[ Despite touching the mug and pot, he doesn't pick them up, instead eyeing them as one might eye an armed explosive. ]
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I should say so,
[Evelyn sniffs (rather imperiously, the narration might add). She then has the grace to give him a little slack, noticing his expression and offering:]
...would you like me to pour? It won't bite you.
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