(no subject)
Friday, 18 June 2010 18:48![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Time: 10 May, early evening
Place: On the road outside the manor
Status: Public
Summary: Another new guest
For the past few days, Jarod had been drifting. He had completed his self-imposed mission on this island and gone looking for something else to strike his fancy. For a hint of another place where injustice had been done and needed someone to right it.. However, nothing had caught his attention just yet, and so he had aimlessly wandered. taking whatever train looked promising, letting himself be taken along in a car or truck for a few hours, then walking a bit.
Soon he came to realise that no matter how randomly he tried to pick his direction, he always ended up moving towards the same area.
It was almost as if some invisible force was calling out to him. He had never quite experienced anything like it.
Well, that was as good a thing to investigate as any.
He was in no particular hurry, though, and so it took him another two days to finally arrive at the place that seemed to exude that pull.
The small town was named Lower Tadfield. On the way, he had seen that there also was an Upper Tadfield, and he had passed an airbase. He smiled in fond memory of flying one of those jets, followed by the not so fond memory of crashing a plane on an island with a blizzard coming up. That he had survived that hat been sheer dumb luck, nothing else. Someone had claimed god had watched over him. He laughed at that.
Now that he was here, he had to decide what to do. He was quite aware that he wasn't looking all that respectable right now. He was wearing leather pants of the kind motorcycle riders often used, knee-high boots and a scuffed leather jacket over a bleached-out t-shirt that had at some point been blue. He carried smarter clothes in the bag over his shoulder, but before he put on a suit he really should take a shower. And shave. And wash his hair.
Not too long back he had come across a man whose motorcycle had broken down. He had helped him fix the thing and in exchange been taken along the last forty miles, almost all the way to Lower Tadfield. But now he had motor oil onhis jacket, on his t-shirt and in his hair. He had not crossed a mirror since then, but he had an idea that there might be some on his face, too.
So, what he needed was a place to get clean and change into proper clothes. A cheap hotel might have done the trick, but it appeared that Lower Tadfield had no such thing.
Place: On the road outside the manor
Status: Public
Summary: Another new guest
For the past few days, Jarod had been drifting. He had completed his self-imposed mission on this island and gone looking for something else to strike his fancy. For a hint of another place where injustice had been done and needed someone to right it.. However, nothing had caught his attention just yet, and so he had aimlessly wandered. taking whatever train looked promising, letting himself be taken along in a car or truck for a few hours, then walking a bit.
Soon he came to realise that no matter how randomly he tried to pick his direction, he always ended up moving towards the same area.
It was almost as if some invisible force was calling out to him. He had never quite experienced anything like it.
Well, that was as good a thing to investigate as any.
He was in no particular hurry, though, and so it took him another two days to finally arrive at the place that seemed to exude that pull.
The small town was named Lower Tadfield. On the way, he had seen that there also was an Upper Tadfield, and he had passed an airbase. He smiled in fond memory of flying one of those jets, followed by the not so fond memory of crashing a plane on an island with a blizzard coming up. That he had survived that hat been sheer dumb luck, nothing else. Someone had claimed god had watched over him. He laughed at that.
Now that he was here, he had to decide what to do. He was quite aware that he wasn't looking all that respectable right now. He was wearing leather pants of the kind motorcycle riders often used, knee-high boots and a scuffed leather jacket over a bleached-out t-shirt that had at some point been blue. He carried smarter clothes in the bag over his shoulder, but before he put on a suit he really should take a shower. And shave. And wash his hair.
Not too long back he had come across a man whose motorcycle had broken down. He had helped him fix the thing and in exchange been taken along the last forty miles, almost all the way to Lower Tadfield. But now he had motor oil onhis jacket, on his t-shirt and in his hair. He had not crossed a mirror since then, but he had an idea that there might be some on his face, too.
So, what he needed was a place to get clean and change into proper clothes. A cheap hotel might have done the trick, but it appeared that Lower Tadfield had no such thing.
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 03:16 (UTC)(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 03:37 (UTC)(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 03:51 (UTC)With a humble bow to the Son and a nod to his brothers (actually Michael got a "you're supposed to be in bed" glare) he moved quietly back into the manor.
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 06:47 (UTC)The blonde guy... and he really wanted to know where he'd hidden those wings before... Seemed slow and maybe a bit child-like in his whining. Possibly mentally retarded. That he couldn't read when at least one of the others apparently could might point to that, too. As did the fact that he had apparently intended to go outside in only his pajamas in the middle of the day.
Jarod remembered how it had been at the Center. He had been kept away from normal society and culture in order to not be influenced by it, but of course they had very much exposed him to the "Centre culture" that was all around him there. If these people here were kept similarly - although with the open park and the friendly look of the manor that was difficult to imagine - maybe they had actually seen a picture of him and associated that with whatever character they had been taught to consider their saviour. It wasn't like he hadn't been in newspapers or on TV often enough for someone to get and print his picture.
A muscle in his jaw twitched as he imagined the life these men were possibly leading her. He absolutely had to investigate now.
"I'm not in the habit of eating people," he assured the blonde man. "That would be very wrong, now, wouldn't it? You can't jsut go around harming and eating people."
He gave a sharp twitch of his head in the direction of the door, hoping it would send Gabriel inside. He still didn't want to be caught between two possibly dangerous persons. He had no way of really knowing anything about them, after all.
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 06:59 (UTC)He gestured to the door. "Do come inside, Lord. You can clean up and have something to eat." Frowning slightly at his expression, Gabriel added, "Are You alright?"
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 07:16 (UTC)He strode past them, spreading his six wings so they could get some sunlight, trying to ignore that weird fake Christ.
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 07:24 (UTC)"Michael, you really shouldn't be out here yet. How's your chest?" He reached up to the Warrior's chest, touching the bandages lightly.
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 07:28 (UTC)(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 07:37 (UTC)The words registered, adn Jarod turned around and strode up to the other two.
"Sir, are you injured?" he asked the blonde man. What kinds of experiments were they performing on people here?
"And you know, maybe you should go back inside and at least get dressed. Some people - you know, they find it strange when others walk around in their pajamas. What will your father say if you appear in front of him like that?"
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 07:44 (UTC)He turned at Jarod's question, looking faintly amused. "Our Father likely wouldn't mind. We've been in worse states, especially Michael. Raphael normally heals him, but he can't at the moment."
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 08:09 (UTC)Very definititely desperately wrong.
He watched the dark-haired man lead his blonde friend back into the building and then followed.
He stood in a lobby - large, clean and nicely kept. Looking at it, no one would have expected this place to be used for medical experiments.
But then again, the entrance areas of the centre facilities weren't lookingthat much different. Except that they didn't leave their experiments running around freely. Once more he became very conscious of his dirty, disshevelled appearance as he walked up to the desk and the woman behind it.
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 08:17 (UTC)(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 08:23 (UTC)He took out his wallet, carefully holding it so only he could see the plethora of ID cards it held, and finally put down everything he needed to prove that he was Dr. Jarod Russel, a psychiatrist, on the table in front of the woman. "I'm Jarod Russel," he introduced himself less formally. Thinking of what the winged men had said, he added: "I think I may be expected here?"
He was still tense. Usually he did his research before he immersed himself in a role and situation. Not knowing exactly what this place even was required him to step very carefully now.
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 08:34 (UTC)She smiled up at him. "You might have gotten the wrong place, dear. This was a hospital many years ago but it's been a hotel for over twenty years." She frowned. "About twenty-four, now, I think? My memory's going, I'm afraid, though really I'm nowhere near as old as I should be for that to happen."
Then again, if he was a normal human and a paying guest, they did need some of those around to afford all the immortals' rooms. "You could always stay here for a while to rest and clean up while you're looking for the right place, though."
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 08:40 (UTC)"I ran into three of your ... guests ... on my way in," he said. "They certainly seemed to be expecting me, even though I can't remember having been in contact with any of them before." They also had wings on their backs and were confused about some Christian myths.
They were posing as a hotel, were they? A dangerous game they were playing for sure. "And yes, I think I would like a room. "A small vacation would do me good, too," he conceded. "What kind of rooms do you have to offer?"
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 08:57 (UTC)"Oh, those three," she laughed, wondering why he didn't seem more fazed. Perhaps he wasn't entirely human either, after all. "They're rather odd in their own way; they've travelled a lot and know just about everyone, especially in Gabriel's case - he's the one with black hair. Well, the rooms on the first floor are the most spacious. The ones on the second floor are slightly smaller but they're also closer to the library, on the same floor - Gabriel's the librarian, by the way - and there are mansard rooms on the third floor with some lovely views."
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 09:03 (UTC)So they at least kept them busy and feeling useful. That was something at least. On the other hand, he had been busy and useful, too, and still kept as a slave.
He reached for his money to give her a downpayment on the room. He knew most people used VISA these days, but paying by credit card was just about the same as inviting the Center to his doorstep.
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 09:09 (UTC)(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 09:11 (UTC)"I have no wings attached to my back if that's what you mean."
Referring to those poor men as non-human, though, was something he very much objected to. Still, making an enemy during his first ten minutes here by saying so was probably a bad idea.
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 09:22 (UTC)"Dr. Russell, dear, we have a lot of guests, and all of them pass themselves off as human most of the time. Most of them aren't, though. You've already seen three of the angels, and there are demons around too, though they'd probably avoid you just because of your profession, the poor dears. There are gods, and immortals, and others who weren't very specific. I'm just running the Manor, but the one in charge is Adam - he was such an adorable baby, him and his toesie-woesies - and his rule is that those with powers cannot use them to harm the town or anyone in it or the surrounding area. He does love Lower Tadfield so." Her smile was rather fond; it had been so pleasant to see the Antichrist as a grown man, after having held him as a baby.
"And no fighting, too. You get free rooms in return for following those rules."
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 09:28 (UTC)"Can I speak to this Adam?" he asked. "And I fear that I have no powers to boast of, nor wings, and I can't claim any particular deity's title either. I'm just a normal guy."
He smiled patiently. "However, I promise not to fight."
Oh my. What was he getting himself into here?
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 09:41 (UTC)She laughed at the last bit. "I should hope so! Most of them would be far more powerful than you are and have weapons. You might even see a couple of them training, every now and then." She handed him the key to 310 and a little sign to hang on the door. "A lot of our guests value their privacy, so if you wish Rose to clean your room, just leave the sign on the door knob."
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 09:51 (UTC)"And Rose is..?" he asked her carefully. He preferred not to have people in his room if he could avoid it.
Also, while physical exercise was certainly good, he almost blanched at the idea of the blonde man being allowed to handle a weapon.
(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 10:02 (UTC)(no subject)
Date: Monday, 5 July 2010 10:04 (UTC)"I'm from over there, too," Jarod told Mary, even though she would have read that on his ID. "Say, do those rooms come with showers?"
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