EARTH 24*(&A$%7HGKPOI

[capemods]

WHO: All transdimensional imPorts.
WHERE: The town of Capers.
WHEN: October 24th, noon, to October 29th, noon.
WARNINGS: Probably violence, but alert me if something else evolves and I can update this.
SUMMARY: Lachesis pulls a group of Cityverse imPorts into another world adventure -- here be the wilds of the west, and dinosaurs!
FORMAT: As you please!



You arrive at the town of Capers from one split second to the next -- from the asphalt and concrete of the City to the dusty and earthen dirt of this wildwood space. The sun is hot and the sky is streaked with thin clouds. The landscape of the town is sparse, utilitarian; you'll find saloons and dance halls, quarries and fenced corrals, the local gaol and the hanging scaffold, the shops and medical facilities (barbershop included). In fact, the logwood architecture of the buildings direct into those four major categories, and the structure of the town forms something circular, much like a compass. You might have been ported in at any of these places, as Lachesis would have delivered you at random.

The sun in the sky burns a golden yellow, peering down at you like some celestial eyeball. Almost feels like it's watching you.

You're wearing your clothes and you've got your communicator on you, but that's about it. You can still contact the Network, but you cannot leave this world. And since you look like such an outsider, it takes only a few moments for you to be ushered by local Samaritans to the Capers Town Hall. There, in his white suit and black belt, stands Mayor Eisner -- and he greets you warmly. He tells you that Capers is used to extradimensional pioneers, and he's happy to invite you into his town. But for a town like his to survive at this unilateral crossroads, certain customs must be observed -- you understand, there's a method of expectation that enables order. You might catch glimpses of other imPorts filing in, being escorted by the kindly souls they came across. Mayor Eisner asks you your name and your favorite color. He asks you if you're a spiritual individual, or more secular. He asks you about the first animal that comes into your mind.

Then he ponders your face for a moment.

Then, with a strong and genuine pat on your shoulder, he tells you who you are, in his town of Capers.

You are free to reject or accept the role, but that all comes with respective consequences.

Welcome to Capers, hero.

Comments

open | barbershop

[invoking]

[ This is an absolute nightmare.

From the tight pants riding up his butt (and nether regions) to the humidity wreaking havoc on his hair, Gil vastly prefers Asthenoa to Capers already. He would take the role of a knight any day over what he's been landed in in this town — town barber.

His protests fell on deaf ears and it's been one nightmarish event after another. At first, he speculates with it being a small town there's no need to worry about customers at the barbershop. He sees people walk by, but never make a turn for the shop itself.

But then they begin to wander in one after the other. Mostly men. Manly men; the sort Gil knows he'll never be. One asks for his usual trim, but when Gil spends too long fretting over where he needs to start from, what scissors to use, if he should wet up the hair or not, and about fourty minutes pass before the customer angrily storms up.

Then another man shows up talking about a tooth infection and how much pain he's in and if Gil can extract the tooth for cheaper than the dentist. The state of his teeth and gums are possibly the most repugnant thing he's ever seen. Luckily, he's less angry when Gil manages to convince him to go to the dentist nearby.

In an act of desperation, he switches the sign on the door to CLOSED and he paces back and forth in the shop. He shouldn't be wasting his time in here, there's got to be something to look for in the town, so he shouldn't be bothering with this ridiculous role play game and look for Sharon or anyone he knows. ]

[onmyneck]

[Daria walks past the barber shop in ridiculously filthy clothes, looking and smelling like a clump of dirt. Her dinosaur charge walks beside her, luckily docile enough for Daria to lead it by the reins down the street. It's not been a good day, as the cracked glasses attest for.

She spots a person pacing furiously around the barber shop, and it sort of looks like Gil to her, but considering the state of her glasses, it could easily be anyone who just happened to be roughly the same height. Still, the urge for someone to wash her hair is overwhelming.

She knocks on the window pane, hoping to get a positive reaction.]

1/2

[invoking]

[ He startles at the noise, almost afraid to look through the glass himself and catch the gaze of an impatient customer in desperate need of a shave or a doctor. He manages to convince himself not to look for about two seconds before he slowly turns. ]

2/2

[invoking]

[ He visibly relaxes some seeing it's only Daria, but the state of her is awful to take in. Before he can reach the door to open it, though, he catches sight of the dinosaur beside her and his jaw drops. ]

What is that thing?!

[ He's seen them everywhere. ]

[onmyneck]

[Daria glances over to her dinosaur. It's busy sniffing the side of the building. Daria looks back to Gil.]

It's a dinosaur.

[She's not even in the mood to make stuff up.]

[invoking]

[ He stands with rigid form, unwilling to budge to allow her in if that thing is going to follow. ]

I've never seen or heard of such a thing before.

[ The evolution of mankind is not his strong suit. ]

[onmyneck]

Well, now you've seen one.

[She's clearly getting agitated.]

I'm guessing you have a sink.

[invoking]

[ That look is enough to get him to move completely out of her way and allow her inside, but he eyes the dinosaur with wary eyes. ]

Why are you covered in dirt?

[buttpatting]

[What Hannibal is wearing, he will not pay any heed to. Later, if anyone mentions it, he will find it rude. The less that is mentioned in regards to him having a lapse into bad fashion (he won't hear a word against pocket squares), the better, and not just for his sense of pride. The best for everyone involved, no doubt about it.

His role in Capers is one best left ignored as well. He'll tell what it is to those he thinks deserve to know, but no one would believe he'd go through with it. Not that stable, respectable Hannibal Lecter. What a shame. The poor man, having already dealt with so much death in the emergency room. The poor imPorts at large, having to deal with such things. Surely they'd all need a good bout of therapy once it was over and done with. Wasn't it just a sweet coincidence that as he thought of that, of potential patients on the horizon, he caught sight of someone who hadn't appeared all that impressed with the nature of psychiatry?

The CLOSED sign makes him smile, particularly when he can see that someone is, in fact, on duty. Someone pacing. Someone who looks ready to tear his hair out, not give anyone a cut. Someone who must, at this point in time, be a little hungry. Isn't just so great, then, that Hannibal's just gotten a little something to eat?

Nothing sinister. Not just yet. Capers doesn't have the culinary technology he's used to. It's just bread and the makings for sandwiches. Later, though. Later, he'll treat Gilbert to a proper meal.

There's no hesitation when he steps up to the door to knock on it, that spot where eyebrows should be lifting as he tries to get his attention. He pushes on the door a bit, because it's possible he didn't lock it. If that's the case, there's Hannibal Lecter, not at all shying away from letting himself in with a paper bag carefully tucked against him.]

[invoking]

[ Gil is certain the CLOSED sign on the door would keep any more customers at bay, not wanting to cut anyone's hair or beards or look down anyone's repugnant mouths anymore. He doesn't hear the door right away, focused on his shadow on the floor for a moment.

Sharon.

If she's here, maybe Eques has already attached itself to his shadow. She's done so before, so he quietly starts: ]

Sharon? Can you —

[ It's when he notices another shadow approaching he whips around wide-eyed. He only relaxes marginally seeing a familiar face, but his heart continues to pound fast and hard. ]

D-Dr. Lecter?!

[ That was close; his hand hovers near the gun holster on his leg. ]

[buttpatting]

[His eyes fall to the hand near that gun, brow furrowing a little in confusion. What, was he expecting the only person to open a door with a CLOSED sign to be either Sharon or a robber? Had something happened already to make him tense, had someone come in and tried to take money or hurt him?

Curious, that reaction. He just sets the bag down and begins to take off his coat to slide over a chair. Here he is, ready to dominate the room, and so soon!]

No, Gilbert. You were right before. It's Sharon.

[The sly glance he shoots him gives away that no, he is not upset with being called that, even if he's sure there's quite a difference in looks between Sharon (she must have eyebrows, for instance) and himself. Hannibal's completely at ease from the looks of it, even if Gilbert is potentially embarrassed.]

You closed shop early. Hectic day, or long lunch break?

[invoking]

[ He's expecting something awful to happen any given moment. If Lachesis sent them here for a reason, that reason is most likely Vulcanus related. He's glad he's managed to keep his weapons on him for once.

He lets his hand fall away from the holster. ]

Ah...

[ He realizes how suspicious that looked, trying to converse with a shadow, and opts to pretend that never happened. ]

I'm not a barber and honestly, I had no idea what I was doing... and then some of the locals began showing up asking me to extract their teeth and then something about surgery...!

[buttpatting]

You're not a barber. It makes sense you would want to close shop. Nor are you a dentist. Judging by your reaction, you are also not a surgeon. Cutting hair takes time to master, same as any other trade. But you are not potentially causing great physical harm by acting as a stylist. [Can he even really call it that in a place such as this?] It is good that you know better than to attempt dentistry or surgery, Gilbert. You are right to be upset by this.

[Not that he said he's upset, no. But judging from his antsy nature and the way he speaks about it, Hannibal feels it a safe assumption to make. The way he says it is more a compliment than anything. There's no judgement here.]

Are you hungry at all, Gilbert? I found enough at the market to make a few sandwiches. I'm sure you have something I could cut bread with, yes? Let's lock the door and have something to eat. Get a sense of familiarity in a strange place.

[Nothing could go wrong with being in a locked room with Hannibal Lecter. Nothing.]

[invoking]

[ No one's ever been so kind to put it like that. Most would tell Gil he's overreacting or make fun of him. In fact, he had been anticipating some sort of jab from Hannibal, and is quite surprised when it doesn't come.

And even more surprised by Hannibal's offer; he might as well have spoken to him in some foreign language because Gil gapes at him for a moment. ]

You brought food...?

[remarkablyspry]

[closed?

oh, dear.

Steve frowns, staring at the sign's stark, white paintstrokes with an ever-growing awareness that this really won't do. the fact he can only stare at a good portion of it without swiping at matted, thick clumps of frizzed-out curls is the truest statement of that.

yet closed is closed, isn't it? a rather non-negotiable state of aff–

wait. he bends, peering past the sign and inside. there's someone in there! perhaps there's hope.

he raps his knuckles on the glass lightly, quickly, trying to wave some response from the man within.]

[invoking]

[ He'd only begun to pat himself down, reaffirming he has everything he had arrived with when the noise shatters the silence of the shop. He tilts his head initially, then spots someone — please don't be another customer — peeking in through the glass.

A heavy sigh escapes him and he finally turns his body to face the other properly, trekking over toward the door and opening it slightly to indicate the shop is not opened for business. ]

Erm, sorry. We're closed.

[remarkablyspry]

Ah, yes, I... [he straightens up quickly, realizing he was still slouching for sign-reading. he smiles nervously.] I did catch the notice, but ah...considering you were still inside, I had hoped I was not entirely too late! My apologies for interrupting whatever maintenance you were in the midst of...

[invoking]

Are you here for a haircut...?

[ Please say no. If it's dentistry or some sort of medical attention he could at least point this man in a different direction.

However, he focuses on Steve's voice, wondering if he's heard it before. ]

[remarkablyspry]

[brightening with a sliver of hope:] Actually, yes...! I was advised to have one rather soon, lest I become more of a hazard to others around me. [he leans in a little, voice lowering:] There are some rather grumpy folks in this town, I've found...it takes a great deal of apologizing to quell their agitation in being bumped into accidentally!

[invoking]

[ Immediately, the tension alleviates and he asks: ] You're an imPort?

[auntyquated]

( As luck has it, Sharon simply followed the things she's overhearing and a few well placed questions about nervous looking tall fellows with messes for locks of hair. Having it turn out that he's the Barber, which doubles as a sort of stop in physician all on his own.

So with a CLOSED sign on the door, Sharon smartly wraps her knuckles on the door. )

Mr. Gilbert?

( The schoolmarm has come calling! )

[invoking]

[ He looks as if he might have seen a ghost instead.

But he ushers forward quickly, calling her name from behind the door in a yelp of surprise. ]

Sharon!

[ He's not sure if he should be glad to see her or not, these alternate universes are often dangerous. ]

[auntyquated]

( How unkind, Gilbert! She's not the one called the phantom anything in this series, excuse him!!!

She smiles, stepping back from the door. )

I had heard you were in. It's been a busy day at the school, I'm afraid, but the students seem to be getting on with us well.

( Which tells him she'd accepted a role, she wasn't in it alone, and that she'd hunted him down... and probably been letting Eques do footwork around town. )

One of my students said the hotel had the most delightful options for dinner... I was hoping for a gentlemanly escort! These creatures about town are quite alarming, you know!

( They need to talk, and make it not seem like any big deal. )

[invoking]

[ He motions for her to come inside and escape the disgusting heatwave, checking the immediate vicinity quickly for anyone who's making a beeline for the barbershop.

With Sharon inside, he can finally ask while still retaining a dumbfounded expression: ] Students...?

[ What sort of job did the Mayor give her now? ]

You've been teaching at the school?

[ She got into character so easily?! ]

[auntyquated]

( Well now, she's hoping no one was snooping, because this alone would be reason enough for gossip in a town the size of a thimble. Honestly, Gilbert!

Regardless, she's a quick step across the floor away from the door once she's inside. )

The Mayor decided I'd do as a schoolteacher, though he called it something quaint... schoolmarm? Myself and another young boy. Mr. Karkat? He's quite striking in a hoop skirt dress.

( Smiling smiling smiling isn't this all hilarious? Though the thought of Sharon being in charge of educating young minds might be closer to terrifying. Today had largely been Karkat talking, which had suited her fine, if her sensibilities had taken a hike for higher grounds. )