A General Meeting [Active/O P E N]

[comeswithpants]

Who: Everyone ever (no seriously)
Where: Everywhere In the parlour
When: Day 001, shortly after noon (after this thread with Liz)
What: Tim decides it's high time to call a meeting of the Residents-- to discuss the situation and the notes
Warnings: Hopefully not too many time paradoxes. If anyone who wants to be in on this needs the time adjusted

Comments

Mingling

[comeswithpants]

While Tim waited for more people to filter in, he tried to be polite and friendly with everyone-- and hoped that other people would try to relax (as much as someone could in this situation) in the meantime.

If they were going to be stuck here, they might as well try to get along, right?

((ooc: As many subthreads to this as you want! I'll reply to anyone who directly addresses Tim, otherwise, do feel free to thread with whoever-- free CR. (8 I'm fairly certain Fort is also going to post something for before Tim arrives, for people waiting.))

Re: Mingling

[grouchinleather]

Sprawled on a chair near the corner, one of his legs draped over the arm and his head resting carefully on his spiked hand was the Midnighter, watching everyone closely from his spot. From his position he had a prime view of the doors leading in and out, and unless someone walked in front of him, he had a pretty good view of the other occupants of the room. He'd been wondering what sorts of people were in this house, and now that someone finally had the brilliant idea to bring them all together, he was getting his wish.

The Midnighter wasn't impressed.

"Is there anyone here actually old enough to fu--" Damn it, too many fucking children. Can't curse. Can't curse... "to drink?"

[crownotcrane]

"I prefer not to, but yes."

He'd long since ceased worrying about posture, and was practically sprawling in his chair himself, with the air of someone who was only here to see who else was here, and didn't really care about further details.

"Although I highly doubt you'll find alcohol here. Whatever dragged everyone in doesn't strike me as being quite that considerate."

[grouchinleather]

Midnighter rolled his eyes. "I don't want a damn drink. I was seeing how many of us are actually adults here."

He looked over Mr. Teetotaler. The guy seemed perfectly ordinary, but at the same time Midnighter knew how usually crazy the normal ones could be... or how completely boring. He was getting that vibe about a lot of the people in the room, and he hated it. The only thing that put him at ease was the fact he knew for a fact he could beat everyone in the room without breaking a sweat.

"You know what the deal is, or is this a daycare of the damned deal?"

Attention!

[comeswithpants]

After it seemed like the room was pretty full-- and there was no one else Tim or Liz thought was coming left to arrive-- Tim cleared his throat, standing straighter and taller in the middle of the room, where people could see him (and hopefully he wouldn't have to resort to standing something, because of his height).

"Hey, can I have everyone's attention please?"

((ooc: Tim's going to address the situation in this thread, largely. It'll be open for discussion, too, after he's said his piece.))

[pfauenrad]

Well, you have Klavier's. Temporarily, at any rate; he'd be dubious about someone that young running the floor, but... well, he himself was centre stage by seventeen.

The least he could do was give this kid a chance... and credit for an organisational effort well done, of course.

[comeswithpants]

Once it seemed like everyone had their attention on him-- or at least as much as was possible, given that it was a large group of not entirely compatible people-- Tim took a deep breath, and began to speak. He wasn't any great speaker, and he honestly didn't like being the centre of attention that much (it went against his nature), but he'd led teams and he could take charge when he needed to. And he needed to speak up

Open floor

[comeswithpants]

Tim didn't want to be in the spot light that much-- not for long. He'd said his piece, he'd welcomed discussion, but now he wanted to let others speak up to.

"If anyone has anything they want to talk about or address... well, we're all already here, right?" he said, voice reverting to that of a more casual teen. He stepped back and out of the way, silently inviting anyone to come up front.

((ooc: Anyone is welcome to start subthreads to have their characters talk about whatever they want-- concerns, discoveries, or whatever.))

Passing this onto Ricardo...

[pfauenrad]

"I have something." Klavier Gavin, approximately 6'3", stood out as it was in his deep purple blazer and silver Gavinners pendant, but when he raised his voice to be heard, it rang clear and loud over the heads of assembled listeners.

This was not always a good thing.

"It... ach. It is... kompletter Unsinn." There was a kind of vehemence in his voice, a violence that carried with it a level of outrage far beyond general aggravation--and deep into the realm of personal offence. "You may not believe me, but in the room with the dollhouse, there is a... a bottle and some... tiny little cookies with suspicious notes. Notes. Commanding you to consume them, as though perhaps that were a wise idea in any unknown circumstances. Eat me and Drink me." He began to pace restlessly, and his voice took on a sardonic, almost falsetto tone. "And of course, someone here did, and... I don't care whether it's some sort of magic or... trickery, or... achtung! I don't know how to even explain what happened. I have only the facts as they have been laid

And now everyone is free to tag in!

[guardiangunman]

Ricardo approved of Gavin telling them about the food and drink in that room-- it would be troublesome to live in constant fear of squishing your companions-- but he was starting to worry about how Gavin presented the issue. When he started pacing, it became clear that Gavin was more worked up than he had any right to be. It wasn't as if he had shrunk down to doll-size.

When Gavin began talking about teacups (Teacups. Who had said anything about teacups?) he realized that this was going to be a very long meeting if he didn't stop it. He stood up, crossed the room in a few long strides, and stood in Gavin's path. He didn't say anything; he just folded his arms across his chest and stared, eyebrows raised, unblinking, until Gavin stopped talking. Then he turned to face the audience that Gavin had so kindly forgotten about

Notes

[comeswithpants]

And finally, the letters.

"All right, so maybe there's a pattern in these notes we've been finding," Tim said, now that everyone seemed to have gotten everything off their chests. "Can everybody who's found one step up?"

((ooc: All letter holders, please step up! Others are welcome to provide feedback and the like, of course.))

[fanged_wings]

Hearing that after everything else, the light got to his feet carefully and glided over, AT whirring softly. Skating was easier on his shoulder than walking. He stopped near Tim, digging into his pocket to pull out the note he'd found.

"I found this one in the dining room," he commented for the benefit of the others, unrolling it. Is the glass half empty or broken? A pessimistic view of things, that. It was hard to read too, but Akito could, just. He wondered who might've written it...

'I hate mysteries like this.'
'Maybe if we solve this one, we can go home...'
'We better. I'm getting bored.'

[guardiangunman]

Ha-- so Akito was the designated diplomat. Completely unsurprising.

"Was there anything broken?"

It was probably some kind of figurative language by a poet who thought they were damaged and clever, but it could never hurt to look into a literal meaning. The dining room was full of unpractically fragile things, after all.

[fanged_wings]

Ah, Ricardo. Akito smiled at the man before shaking his head. "Nope, it was just rolled up and in one of the wine glasses," he explained. "I did look around for a bottle afterwards, but I couldn't see one that was broken." It was a strange way to word things, really. He wondered what kind of person had been the one to write it...