Open: Mrs Peel at the bar

[mrs_emmapeel]

That, Mrs Peel decided as she strolled up to the bar, had not gone well. She leaned on the bartop. "Whiskey, neat," she said to the bartender as she ran over the evening's events in her mind

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[beige_doc]

The Doctor massaged his temples. He was having a hard time here and he'd only just arrived. He'd run into one of his future companions...who yelled at him for leaving Sarah Jane in Croyden. And abused him for something he hadn't even done yet...and since she'd told him he was unable to attempt to change it. [Damned] Blinovitch and his Limitation Effect.

And though he didn't drink very much in this incarnation he found himself in the bar after leaving Rose and Adrian in the library. He needed something nice and strong. He nodded hello to the two people already in the bar. A man and woman, neither who he'd seen before though that didn't mean anything. He was used to people knowing who he was before he knew them.

"Could you get me a bottle of alcoholic ginger beer please?" He asked the barman. Because of his different physiology to that of humans, he could drink a bottle of whiskey without any effect on him. A couple of bottles of ginger beer was enough to get him tipsy.

"Thankyou," he took the bottle from the barman and had a mouthful. Definately what he needed.

[mrs_emmapeel]

Mrs Peel flashed a grin at Wilson and nodded at the Doctor. She swung her long legs off the couch and stood up, strolling back over to the bar and settling on the stool between both of them. "Good evening, gentlemen," she said cheerfully. "More relcutant guests of the hotel, I'll presume, since our recalcitrant friend the barkeep doesn't seem to want to speak to either of you. I'm Mrs Peel. Mrs Emma Peel."

She set her glass on the bar top and tapped her fingernails on the side. "Another, if you please," she said to the bartender once he approached, making a face at his back once it was turned. "Shall we compare notes on what we've seen and learned, or just come together to drown our sorrows in this establishment's spirit cabinet?"

[beige_doc]

The Doctor Smiled (yes it deserved the capital 'S') at the pair. "Pleasure to meet you Mrs Peel, Dr Wilson." He placed his bottle of ginger beer down on the bench top and offered his hand. "I'm the Doctor."

Ohh yes, he was a reluctant guest. He hadn't run into anyone who wasn't. And no the bell boy didn't count. Why was it something always stopped him from watching/playing a good game of cricket? He so wanted to see England finally win the Ashes.

He took another sip of his drink. Many laughed at the fact that he could get drunk on ginger beer. Made people assumed that he'd never be able to hold anything stronger. In his younger days he'd had much fun proving them wrong.

"Mmmm...spent the past few hours thinking about getting out of here with young Adrian and Rose...we had a few ideas on that after a bit of brainstorming."

[mrs_emmapeel]

Mrs Peel shook both their hands in turn, returning Wilson's brilliant smile and beaming warmly at the Doctor. "Well, now. A pair of Doctors," she said, giving them each the once-over and noting the gorgeous smiles, impeccable manners, and boyish good looks all around. "I must be the most fortunate woman around, at the moment. I shall be well looked-after if I should swoon or something, yes?"

She wrapped her hands 'round her whiskey glass. "Doctor," she said, turning to the fair one on her left, "if any of those ideas involve simply walking out of the place, I'll have you know it's impossible. I've just come from spending the evening attempting to do exactly that. Nothing worked. You walk away, and you come right back. Maddening."

She then turned and favoured Wilson with another smile. "And have you any notes to compare, James, or shall we simply skip ahead to the part where we drink in earnest?"

[beige_doc]

"I uhhh well...I'm not exactly a medical doctor...though if push does come to shove I am passable in that area." The Doctor smiled faintly and had another mouthful of his ginger beer and neither denied nor confirmed Wilson's next statement to Emma."

"Just walking out?" The Doctor shook his head as if that idea was the most absurd suggestion he'd ever heard. "No, I've already heard from a handful of other...well I guess you'd say patrons about that. Young Adrian seems to be convinced it's magic." The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "But in my experience there's no such thing. Any technology that is sufficiently advanced enough seems like magic to lesser educated peoples."

The Doctor finished off his ginger beer and pushed it away from him. He didn't need another. His tongue was already loosened enough. For the moment anyway.

"Well, my ideas are more centred around why we're here. If we can work that out then well. I think it will be an easy matter to leave. "I...well from what I gather people just seem to be picked up and well...for want of a better word teleported to the boundaries of the Hotel. Is that right?" His hand returned to his lap, his fine blonde hair slightly ruffled. "Place reminds me of the Oubliette Suites back on Ga-back home..."

[mrs_emmapeel]

Emma had turned to face the Doctor as he spoke, elbow on the counter top, chin resting on the heel of her hand, a half-smile on her lips. "Oubliette Suites?" she repeated. "Sounds perfectly dreadful. Remind me to tell my travel agent never to book me anyplace like that.

I'm not sure I was 'teleported,' exactly," she continued. "I was driving. I was merrily making my way down a two-lane country road in Surrey. Then suddenly it gave way to a desert road. I found myself at this hotel; as it was the only building I'd seen since arriving in the desert I stopped to ask what was going on. In the few minutes I was inside, my car vanished. 'They,' whomever 'they' may happen to be, were at least kind enough to leave me my bag."

She watched him fuss with his hair and she smiled. It amused her that even though he was apparently not even as old as she, he kept referring to this Adrian as "young Adrian." Emma idly wondered if Adrian were perhaps a child; that might explain the belief in magical forces at work behind the mystery of this hotel.

She turned back toward Wilson, her smile widening a bit, a mischevious gleam in her eyes. "Incidentally, James, I congratulate you on your most discriminating taste." She laughed and winked at him before clearing her throat to get the bartender's attention.

[galactic_drunk]

Ford chose that moment to enter the bar, and caught a snippet of the current conversation.
"A drink and a bottle, please," he directed at the bartender, and turned to Emma. "I was teleported. Granted, that's what I was hoping would happen, but I certainly didn't expect to end up here. I take it you weren't able to leave, then?"
He turned then to Wilson and the Doctor. "Hi, Ford, pleased to meet you."

[beige_doc]

The Doctor looked shocked at the thought that someone would actually bok into an Oubliette Suite. "Ohhh no, one doesn't book in. It is more a place where they place political prisoners and 'forget' about them...until they grow old, turn mad or kill themselves..." the Doctor sighed as if remembering his own time in one before continuing on. "They have everything one could desire. Except escape."

The Doctor stuck his hand out to Ford for him to shake it. "Greetings, I'm the Doctor."

It appeared that the others were in the habit of talking about how they arrived here. It was probably only polite to do the same. "I'd planned to see England finally win the Ashes, 2005 I was aiming for. I got here and my transport just left of her own accord.

[mrs_emmapeel]

Emma turned to Ford. "Nice to see you again, Ford. And no, I wasn't able to lead. Any path I chose away from the place on foot seemed to double straight back here."

She sat back, idly running her fingertips along the rim of her glass, thinking. "So far the common theme seems to be travel of some sort, yes? Road trips, weekends away, trans-whatever-ing, holidays, special events. Even Mr Crowley said he was driving when his car fell to pieces and he was forced to check in here. I wonder what that could be about.

She offered Wilson another smile. "I do agree with you, though, James, that we stand the best chance of escaping this place if we band together." She sipped her drink, trying to suppress a shudder. "Before we wind up like the prisoners the Doctor here was just talking about. Gone mad or suicidal from being locked up in this place."

[galactic_drunk]

Ford shook the Doctor's hand before grabbing the bottle and stuffing it in his bag.
He nodded at Emma as he took a drink from the glass the bartender left there. "Quite, nice to meet you again as well. Again.
"Of course you weren't," he added, then a thoughtful look struck him. "Hrm. Maybe a mobius strip...? No, no there'd be only one direction."
He wobbled slightly as he slid onto a stool and smiled at James.
"Hm. Yes, divided we fall, together we stand. I'm just worried that the Hotel will be strong enough to stop us either way. What we need to do is find out what it wants with us and then convince it we're not the right people for the job. Have to find someone in charge, first, though, and I hear the bellboy's not much help."
He frowned and took another drink, "Odd, though. I thought he was rather nice."

[galactic_drunk]

Ford took another sip of his drink and swayed slightly, frowning. He was getting drunker faster than was normal for him. Setting his drink down, he shrugged to himself and grinned, "Any of you seen any other employees of the hotel? Poolboy? Cook?"
He eyed the bartender warily. Tempted to try to drag him into a conversation, Ford almost called him over, but decided against it. Emma had tried that, if he remembered correctly (memory was suddenly a bit difficult to access and a tad hazy), and the bartender had promptly ignored her. By the looks of it, he hadn't yet stopped, and Ford rather liked being able to get drinks easily.
"Maybe the bellboy is the manager," he muttered conspiratorily, narrowing his eyes. "I've seen his post empty often enough."

[beige_doc]

Right.

Bugger it.

The Doctor called the barman over and ordered another bottle of ginger beer. He probably should have gone with something a bit less potent though.

Like a double whiskey.

He had a mouthful of his drink and placed it back on the table. He could see himself becoming the first alcoholic Timelord in history being stuck here.

The Doctor sighed, "despite appearences, that bellboy is definately not one to be trusted." Yes he may have a one track mind with regards to seeing the Ashes but the Doctor was still smarting over that small fact.

It was his lifelong dream. And by lifelong he of course meant his current life. His previous ones couldn't give a toss about cricket. And once more he was prattling in his own thoughts. Could be worse. Could be prattling out loud...