capeandcowllogs | EARTH 24*(&A$%7HGKPOI

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EARTH 24*(&A$%7HGKPOI

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ 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. ]

[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?

[ 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...!

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.]

[ 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...?

[It's a shame, then. Gilbert, clearly, doesn't have a good deal of people in his life who treat him well. Or so Hannibal has come to think, his talk of being "just" a servant taken into account. He's tempted to ask about his dinner party, but not immediately. Perhaps not while they're here, either. It could have been stressful, and the last thing he wants to do is give him more distress.

A sandwich that's not his usual fare? That's more like it.]

Why would I not? There's a farmer's market here. It drew my attention as soon as I heard of it. Granted, it's hardly the selection I'm used to and I don't have the appliances I would like in order to properly cook, but I am capable of doing what I can with what I have.

[Hannibal does not at all seem out of place, not when he strides over to the nearest selection of utensils and plucks up the longest straight razor blade he can find. He turns it over in his hand, inspecting it. It's good enough.]

Is it clean, Gilbert? Or is there a clean basin I could wash it in? It'll do just fine.

[ He loves them anyway. They tease with love! ]

Do they? I haven't looked around the entire town yet. The Mayor was pushy about our jobs...

[ Protesting is futile, apparently. He doesn't want additional trouble in unfamiliar terrain.

His gold eyes scour the shop with disdain. ]

It looks clean, but who knows what sort of germs and disease are lurking. [ Why the hell is he here when he should be looking for Sharon again? ] Are you sure you want to do that here?

[In all honesty, Hannibal's not sure it should be done much of anywhere. He's fortunate, has always been fortunate in the way that his immune system? Spectacular. He's rarely sick, and not for long. Not everyone can be the same way—and thank whatever powers may be for that, because where would medical careers be if everyone had such a great system?]

There may be issues with cleanliness here, it is true. Perhaps even the well water is somehow tainted. [A little turn of the blade and he eventually looks back at him, mouth quirked in the slightest of smiles.] If you are really so ready to leave the shop and the possibility that people might ask you to pull their teeth, however, certainly. We can do this elsewhere.

[ His gaze flicks to the door, as if expecting someone to come waltzing in any second with another repugnant wound he's not qualified to handle. The colour from his face drains at the thought and quickly. ]

— we should go somewhere else. Lachesis likely wants us to investigate this place.

[ He says this all rather quickly and it sounds like excuses, but it's all actually true. ]

Of course.

[He doesn't know enough about Lachesis to say either way. It comes across, really, as Gilbert taking any possible out he can to simply get out. He's yet to realize that he has no need to make excuses in Hannibal's presence, unless they are some extremely important relating to his health. Him simply wanting to leave somewhere? Nothing that needs to be excused.

So he puts the blade down (with precision, even, someone who's clearly comfortable using them), tosses the coat over his arm, and picks up the bag before looking back at him with a smile that could light up a room.]

Do you have a place here yet? You've taken on your role. I imagine you are being treated well for this. Perhaps you've gotten a private place, even.

[ Gil seems to have forgotten he pocketed a razor over an hour ago, preoccupied with frightening male customers.

He glances at himself in one of the mirrors and sighs warily. His wavy hair is puffing out and curling around the ends a lot more no thanks to this heat. This extreme weather is tiring and nauseating, but what good is sitting around doing? ]

I haven't checked yet. I need to look for anyone else from the City who might be here first.

[ He presses a hand to the high buttoned up collar. The carcere is safe, good. ]

[Hannibal hasn't an idea why he's putting his hand to his collar. The gesture is one he's familiar with in medical ways, but Gilbert doesn't seem on the verge of ridding his stomach of its contents or having sudden heart palpitations. Not that he couldn't handle it if that was the case, but he'd prefer it not to be.]

And yet, you haven't done so.

[There's no judgment in it, merely a factual statement. It sounds a bit sympathetic, too—Hannibal's certainly not about to go out of his way to find those he has connections to back home or in the City. Gilbert was coincidence, not planned. He should, really, seek out those he knows, and yet...it's always better when people seek him out.]

Should we walk, then? Perhaps you'll see someone you feel you must.

[He doesn't make any move towards the door, though. He'll let Gilbert take the lead on that one.]

[ Abigail Hobbs isn't the only one with something to hide.

He does take point, for once moving fluidly and confidence in spite of the awful heat he has to endure and whatever else might be out there. But he has Raven, so if they find themselves in trouble he can protect them both, as presumptuous as that is. Hannibal looks like he can fend for himself.

He pushes open the door and waits for Hannibal to step out as well, grimacing at the wave of heat that hits his face. ]

This air is thick...

[ He squints forward. ]

You haven't seen anyone else from the City yet?

[If Abigail Hobbs was the only one with something to hide, the world would be far too boring for Hannibal's liking.

He's content to let Gilbert lead for the moment, stepping out after him and inclining his head at the quiet words. Yes, the air is thick, with dust and dinosaurs and other things that Hannibal thought were quite better left in the past. He can see the result it's having on Gilbert's hair, and as someone who appreciates a manicured, well-kept look, it's easy to find it bothersome. It also happens to be ridiculously endearing, if Hannibal were prone to finding adults endearing.

Something else, sure, but not quite endearing.]

In passing, perhaps. I haven't exactly been seeking them out. [Not just yet, at any rate. He'll make his way around.] I arrived hungry and thought it best to see after that first. Being hungry can make someone irritable. I do not like to be irritable.

[It wouldn't be good for someone to find Hannibal Lecter anything but impressive, after all.]

Do you have any idea where you'd like to go first, Gilbert? I have no real plans to attend to at the moment.

[ He would have asked why Hannibal avoided the others, but upon learning he had only been hungry he simply dismisses it.

As he ventures forth into this dusty, hot town with weird animals — dinosaurs? — wandering about. He slows down when a compsognathus hobbles past his feet, picking at the ground the way a chicken should.

He feels he's gone insane. ]

We should be cautious. Lachesis doesn't send us to these strange worlds without a reason. [ He looks at the compsognathus again. ] Maybe they have a City Hall of their own or an inn where others might be staying at?

[Hannibal sees it, the dinosaur. Were Gilbert to verbalize that he feels insane looking at them, Hannibal would tell him as much. How could he feel completely insane then, when such a stable man as Hannibal Lecter is validating what he's seeing as the reality they're now in? That would be truly insane.

The mention of Lachesis has him looking at him more fully, attention previously having been fully focused on the little dinosaur playing chicken. He hasn't been in the City long enough to truly know its power or sense of humor, so he has no choice but to defer to Gilbert in the matter. Nothing wrong with that, deferring to someone with more knowledge when he needs to. He doesn't like it, but he's capable of it.]

If there is a mayor, there must be a proper City Hall and some sort of law enforcement, yes. Inns, too. [There's a pause before he asks, and it's more curiosity than it is professional curiosity. He's not here to analyze him.] What was the first animal that came to mind when you were asked?

[ The compsognathus wobbles its way back on its tiny legs to Gil's feet and begins to poke with its snout at his shoe. He immediately steps back and makes a shooing motion. Oh no, he is not dealing with bizarre animals again. ]

Shoo!

[ His bright eyes fall back on Hannibal after the little dinosaur's run off, puzzled as usual. ]

What do you mean?

[How very rude to that poor little dinosaur. Having spent a great deal of time around someone who values the proper treatment of dogs, Hannibal has found himself look at animals in a different light.

He's just fully aware of why he's looking at them differently, of course.

So he walks with him, but his eyes follow the little dinosaur as it seems to take the shooing to heart. For the moment. It's possible it could come back and try again.]

The mayor here, he asked me what was the first animal that came to my mind. I thought it might have been some sort of test about who I was supposed to be in his town. [He was also grateful he was so smart, otherwise he would have said dinosaurs. Fortunately, he'd taken a moment to think and said something that wasn't extinct.] And then he told me I was to be a bounty hunter and I was quite convinced I could have said "pine tree" as an animal and it wouldn't have mattered.

Bounty hunter?

[ His eyes grow wide and he balks at Hannibal, as if the idea of such a dirty and dangerous job is quite the opposite of the gentleman he is. ]

What kind of jobs is that man giving out to people?! [ And to answer Hannibal's question quickly: ] I answered dog, but I haven't seen any normal animals since we arrived.

[ He is more of a dog person, but only due to the fact he hates cats and is ailurophobic. ]

Perhaps he had a list and was simply going down it, no matter who or what he came across.

[Or maybe he has some sort of secret sense into people, giving Hannibal that title. Though if he gave Gilbert the one of barber, well. It could have just been an odd coincidence, nothing more.]

It makes sense, the setting taken into account, that such jobs would be needed. If you can find much sense in this place, that is. Have you seen that people here ride dinosaurs like horses? I'd think it a dream if I hadn't pinched myself already.

[ He wipes his brow, already covered in sticky sweat no thanks to this heat. ]

These strange worlds Lachesis sends us to never make much sense. The last world was some sort of, what is it called, video game? And the creatures there only tend to exist in fantasy.

[ His expressions darkens quickly then. ]

But each time has had to do with Vulcanus. I don't have a good feeling about this.

[ Little does he know he had been followed prior to arriving at the barbershop. ]

[Oddly enough (odd for someone so observant, something he'll find odd and mildly troubling later on), Hannibal has no idea he's been followed, either. It's not the first time it's happened, but he quite liked to think that he'd learned from the last. Of course, he hadn't exactly been doing his real life's work in Capers just yet (and had no intentions to), but it would still give him cause for concern.

He hadn't been in the City long enough.

So Hannibal's bad feelings are more directly related to things that, in the end, don't really matter to anyone else but him.]

I missed out on this video game world you're talking about. [Pretty much stating the obvious, of course.] Does Vulcanus always do something...devious? Something that would give you bad feelings in general. What feels so bad to you?

Vulcanus holds anti-imPorts sentiments. They've tried multiple times in the past year to get rid of us. They've even kidnapped imPorts.

[ Needless to say, they're a grave danger to them all.

The further they venture out, the heavier his legs feel. He feels exhaustion creeping into his bones already. The talk about food and water before... is he dehydrating already? ]

And they'll try to kill us if they can.

[Hannibal has, of course, done what research on it he can. Has gone through numerous network posts to glean good wheat and sift the chaff. True, there is someone he's following carefully on this Rumblr, but he's taken the time to educate himself. He's yet to experience it firsthand, and he could never say he was looking forward to it.]

I was told that there was a high percentage of those killed in the City being able to return to life. [One of the most difficult things he has yet heard.] Are you afraid of death, Gilbert, or the manner in which it might find you?

[And then, ah. Quickly—]

I apologize if that came across as prying. You don't have to answer that if you don't want to.

EARTH 24*(&A$%7HGKPOI

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