OPEN | Network or Action | I was a tourist with no story lost in this purgatory

[respinto]

NETWORK

I know I haven't really hopped on here since I got here a couple of days ago but...hi, I'm Cam. I'm going to go get a drink and this is my open invitation for someone or someones to join me, because drinking alone is really, really sad and I really don't wanna be that guy. Don't make me be that guy, okay?

ACTION

Admittedly, Cam can't really complain about the digs here. It's actually a really nice apartment. It's like someone took the loft he and Sophie were sharing in Manhattan and upgraded it into something more spacious and less roach-infested. He likes that part of this whole deal. The part he's not so into is that she's not here, as far as he can tell, and he's lost his door. He looks for it for a couple of hours every day, but the promise that time sort of stops on the "other side" makes him feel less guilty for not really going all out while he's looking. He's not keen on the idea of leaving Soph alone in New York, that's for damn sure, but if time isn't moving forward with out him; if that's really true — and rumor has it, it is — then maybe the fact that he hasn't found his door back yet is a sign that he should take a minute and regroup; enjoy his life for what it is for a second instead of treating every day like a full time job that never really pays and gives no time off.

He loves his sister and he doesn't feel like she's a job all the time, but...well. He's done everything for her since he was eight years old. This feels like a chance to just...take a breather and he deserves one, doesn't he?

So he drops a line on the network and then he heads out. Maybe he'll meet someone; maybe he'll end up drinking alone, but either way...it's getting him out of the apartment for a minute because he's not entirely sure he can resist that golden sphere if he doesn't and something tells him he ought to wait on that until he can find out what's actually in there without having to open it to find out for himself. It's a random magical place that dragged him out of his real life and then closed the door behind him and hid it. He thinks it's fair not to entirely trust the gifts he gets while he's here.

Cam makes his way to the nearest bar and settles on a stool, his feet touching the floor with no problem even when he's sitting because he's so goddamned tall, and he orders himself a beer before pulling out his PDA to check the network again. Why not? He hasn't had a beer in a while. It's hard to enjoy a drink when you're on big brother duty twenty-four seven.

Comments

[sempreadagio]

Jill is working the bar at The Houndstooth today. It's the same job she did back home, in the same place she worked back home. Since she's pretty sure that she's the reason The Houndstooth is here, she feels responsible for it, like she owns it. It's been her home away from home for some time now. She's pretty pleased that it's here.

Behind her is a wall full of liquor bottles and taps, along with big televisions with various sports broadcasts on it. The Houndstooth is obviously a sports bar. It serves beer, liquor and wine along with a plethora of barbecue and hamburger favorites. How it gets sports from Jill's world, up to date at that, is beyond Jill.

She stops in front of Cam and cleans the counter in front of him more out of habit than anything. Then she sets down a coaster. "Hey. I'm Jill." Then she notices that this is a new face she hasn't seen before. "You new around here?"

[respinto]

It's a new place he hasn't been in yet and it seems nice enough. But like any other time he's in a new place, Cam is looking around, less at the people and more at the decor. It's just a habit he has, taking in his surroundings like that even when it feels entirely insignificant to do so. And this bar has a lot to look at, so when he hears the voice before he sees the source, it takes him a second to actually look over, responding while his eyes are still moving around the room. "Hey, yeah..."

But then he does look and seriously? He's looked around a little. He's peeked on the network even if he hadn't checked in before now. Is literally everyone here hot? Or just the girls?

"Yeah, hi. I'm Cam," he introduces himself with a friendly smile. If nothing else, he can certainly get used to the aesthetics around this place, that's for sure.

[sempreadagio]

It's true that The Houndstooth has a very eclectic decor that it's easy to get distracted by. It's one of the oldest buildings in the downtown bar district in Tuscaloosa Alabama. It has antiquated signage all over the walls. Given its close proximity to the University of Alabama much of the decor is geared toward the University. And of course, there's a splash of black and white houndstooth pattern here and there. The place has a very homey feel to it. It's easy for Jill to understand how and why the eyes drift all over the place to read and look over the old signs and photographs.

This boy is cute. Jill likes the friendliness in his smile and the way he doesn't immediately seem to look down on her as wait staff and customer.

"Hi Cam. Welcome to Itinere, and The Houndstooth." She gives him a small, crooked smile. Her accent has a distinctly Southern lilt to it, with words drawn out in that way that Southerners do. "What can I get for you?"

[respinto]

While Jill sounds like she's from the South, Cam's accent is more Long Island even though he's from Connecticut. He's from Greenwich and a lot of the people there have that accent, including his mom who grew up in the city originally, so he's picked it up.

"Thanks very much, this is a cool place you've got here," he says. It isn't said like he thinks she owns it — he wouldn't know if she did — but just in general, he means the bar. It's homey. It reminds him of Boston. The sports bars near his original alma mater looked a lot like this.

His eyes shift past her to look at the drafts for a second before he looks back at her again. "Surprise me. Whatever you consider the best beer you've got, bottle or draft, hook me up. I'll trust your judgement." Doesn't hurt to try something new, after all, and for all he knows, this place has stuff he's never had a chance to try before, whether because it's a craft he's missed in other bars back home or because there are brews here that don't exist for him back home. That could be a thing, right?

[sempreadagio]

"Thanks. Back home it's owned by a guy named Marley, who's a seriously cool guy. Here... well, I guess it's mine." Which is definitely still a strange thing to put into words. The Houndstooth is her place. She misses Marley, of course. But she also loves this place. "It's the kind of place where everybody knows your name."

She turns away and gets a clean, chilled glass from the freezer. Then she studies the wall of tap handles for a moment before picking one and expertly filling the glass. She brings the glass back over to Cam and sets it in front of him on the coaster.

"This is called Big Wave, brewed by the Kona Brewing Company in Hawaii. It's one of my favorites cause it's just a light, smooth beer. Kona doesn't put anything out that isn't good. But this one is a blonde ale." Sorry, Cam. She's gonna stand here and wait for you to try it to see if you like it.

[respinto]

Cam looks suddenly caught between confused and super interested. "Wait, you mean like you didn't specifically start this business to be kind of a mirror to the one back home, but the way you just said that, like you didn't expect to open a business…? How's that work?"

He's more of a stout kind of guy when he's the one choosing, but that's mostly because he's not all that well-versed with the lighter or amber beers, at least not like he is with the darker ones. It's why he sometimes likes to let the bartender choose.

She puts the glass in front of him and Cam gives an impressed sort of facial shrug. It always surprises him when a female bartender actually knows what the hell she's talking about because, in his experience, female bartenders are college girls trying to make a little extra buck while they're in school and they don't actually give a shit about anything other than the paycheck and tips. Jill makes for a nice change.

Cam lifts the glass to take a drink, tightening his lips against the edge of the glass to suck the actual beer through the foam head so he can get an accurate taste; he can see that she's curious how he'll like it, because it seems like she's waiting for something. "Oh, yeah...I like that, good balance. I'm not a huge fan of super hoppy beers, so I tend to hang back from the ales, but I like this, good call. See, I had a feeling I could trust your judgement."

[sempreadagio]

"Thanks." Her pale skin might be flushing with a bit of a rose hue. Jill knows beer, wine and mixed drinks really well. "I'm glad you like it. And I agree, there comes a point where the hops can get so over-powering you lose the flavor of the beer itself."

She gets herself a half pint of the Big Wave and sips at it while contemplating how best to explain the way The Houndstooth had just shown up one day, just as it is.

"It was really weird, actually. I had been here for awhile and I was just... I don't know, I guess I was missing this place. The next day my phone lit up with a GPS map of the city with a blinking dot on it. I followed it and found this place here, just as I remembered it back home. Marley was kind of like a dad figure to me so, I guess I feel responsible for this place in his absence."

Jill pauses and shakes her head. "I know it sounds crazy. But I think this place can read your mind sometimes. It'll just give you what you think about, whatever will make you happy, like it's in your brain."

[respinto]

Cam sets the glass down again specifically so that he can point at her with his dominant hand. "Yes! Thank you! See, this is why I don't like IPAs," he says, getting a little excited that there's finally someone to talk to who actually understands what the hell he's saying. It's not like Cam's a big beer connoisseur or anything, but he kind of knows his shit and had spent his college years surrounded by people who thought Bud Lite was God's gift. They wouldn't know an IPA if it bit them in the ass.

His eyebrows rise again, a little, when she explains how she found this place. "Seriously?" he asks. It isn't that he doesn't believe her, it's just...that's kind of crazy to wrap his head around. If his unfamiliar face hadn't been enough to identify him as new, his reaction to that story would've had him pegged.

"I mean, yeah, it does but a lot about this place sounds kind of crazy, so I have a feeling I'm just going to have to learn how to suspend disbelief around here, huh?"

[sempreadagio]

Jill actually smiles at Cam's enthusiasm, which doesn't happen all that often, to be honest. Lucy is the only one who can make Jill smile no matter what. But she too is excited to talk to someone who knows their beers. Not that she gets all judge-y about what people drink, everyone has their thing, but she does have her own preferences. If she's going to drink, it's going to taste good, or have any flavor at all. And that's just for starters.

"I'm glad to meet a fellow good beer lover. And when I say good beer, I mean the ones that actually have flavor. I mean, we'll just start there." Jill says with amusement.

She nods at his 'seriously', wishing she had some more sane news for him than the truth of Itinere. Unfortunately, it is what it is. "I've had to do a lot of accepting weird things since arriving here. And at the same time, I kind of like that magic is real. It's only in movies, books and on TV at home... my home." She's just assuming it's magic, of course. Whatever makes this place do what it does could be anything, really.

Action

[mightbeconcussed]

Cam is very lucky that the first bar he sees is The Houndstooth and that the Houndstooth is generally occupied by one Jill (working) and one Lucy (drinking). She walks in with a shopping bag and sets it on the bar, leans over and kisses Jill on the cheek in greeting once she comes 'round to hand Lucy a mint julep. It's only then that she takes a moment to look around the bar. It's then that she sees a new guy, someone that she hasn't seen in Itinere before. She collects her drink, leaves her back and moves over to sit next to Cam.

"Hi, I'm Lucy. You're new here, right?"

[respinto]

Cam catches the greeting out of the corner of his eye and finds himself secretly a little jealous, thinking maybe they're a couple. Not because he's upset neither is available, in that case — although, admittedly, that's kind of a disappointing thought since they're both gorgeous — but because no one bats an eyelash. No one cares. If they were two guys, he wonders if that same interaction would've been so cavalier. It's something he's been struggling with for his whole life, really. Cam loves women, don't get him wrong, but...well. He thinks it'd be nice if it was also considered okay for him to like other guys. Which he does. But where he comes from, it isn't.

He clears his throat and pushes all of that to the back of his mind when the second woman introduces herself and he smiles. "Lucy, nice to meet you. I'm Cam and yeah, I'm new here."

[mightbeconcussed]

They're sort of a couple. They're best friends, seriously co-dependent and they share a boyfriend. As for whether anyone bats an eyelash or not, Lucy isn't sure. She hasn't paid much attention to what other people think. She never really has and she doesn't want anyone's opinion on her love life. She knows this type of relationship wouldn't be accepted in Birmingham, Alabama either, but she's lived in so many weird places, places like Itinere, that she no longer thinks about that either. For the most part, Lucy just loves Jill. Outside of that, she likes guys. It's more complicated than she probably gives it credit for, more complicated than she ever actually thinks about.

"I thought so. Eventually we usually see everyone in here and I haven't seen you. Where are you from?"

[respinto]

"You know, that's not the first time I've heard something like that today," he comments with a smile. Everybody is so nice here, he's fast learning. He has a feeling that this place is a little bit dangerous like that: if he gives himself the chance, he's going to start to really like it here and then he isn't going to want to go back to the rush rush rush of New York City.

Her question makes Cam take pause for a moment. "Uh, originally, Connecticut. But I've also lived in Boston for a few years and I just recently moved to Manhattan with my little sister. So, I bounce around a little? What about you? Somewhere down South, I can hear that much on my own," he observes kindly before lifting his glass and taking another drink. "...can I buy you one in exchange for some company?" he asks, and forgets entirely that money doesn't really matter around here, as it turns out. So it's kind of a stupid question, really.

[mightbeconcussed]

She lifts one shoulder up and tilts her head toward it in a little shrug. "It's a small town," she says by way of explanation. Life here is much slower, much friendlier, much easier, at least that's been Lucy's experience. Itinere is dangerous like that. He's dead on in that. It's not perfect, but it's good most of the time.

"Yankee, huh?" she says jokingly. "Birmingham, Alabama. I've lived a couple of different places like this though. One was just called The City. The other was an island where monsters came out at night." She smiles at his question. It's not stupid. It takes a while to get used to. "You may," she tells him. "Sugar, I'd sit with you whether you bought me a drink or not." She might be laying the accent on a little thick there, but she's smiling.

[respinto]

Which is more than he thinks he can say about New York. He's used to the rush rush rush aspect of a big city, after living in Boston while he'd been at school, but New York is its own sort of animal, really, so the slower pace and the friendlier faces around here? Yeah, dangerous. He likes it probably a little too much.

Laughing, Cam nods and takes another drink before putting the glass down again for the moment. "Yeah, I guess you guys would call me a yankee," he agrees. He blinks a little at her explanation around the places she's been before here. "...well that doesn't sound terrifying at all," he says with a playful sarcasm tinting his voice. He grins a little when she agrees and his eyebrows lift with amusement at the harmless flirtation she tacks onto the end.

"Oh yeah?" he asks. "Can I get her another one of these?" he asks, pointing at Lucy's drink when he orders; he missed it earlier so he isn't really sure what she's drinking, actually. Then, he turns his attention back to her. "So what do you think? You like it here, then?"

[mightbeconcussed]

He might be surprised how he misses the rush of the city after a little while though. Lucy still misses the rush of Game Day back home. She does not, however, miss the traffic.

"At least I say it without judgement?" she offers. "It was absolutely terrifying. Some days more terrifying than others. It had it's good points too. I met some amazing people there then they kicked everyone out. Some of us went home, some us went to other places. I went home then got stuck here not long after." Lucy flirts. It's sort of like breathing for her. She doesn't mean anything by it.

Lucy raises her glass and smiles at Jill. "Jilly makes the best mint juleps in all of Alabama," Lucy offers in response. She nods at his question. "I still miss home sometimes, but I love it here. It's easy and usually it's nice."

[respinto]

"I'll take what I can get," Cam replies with an amused grin. He's always wondered why the Southerners kept that term yankee to describe the Northerners. Probably if he'd given more of a shit about history and had paid closer attention, he'd know, but because he didn't, he doesn't. It isn't that important, anyway, just a mild, passing curiosity.

Her story is maybe more interesting than she sounds like she's giving it credit for, Cam thinks, and she's got his full attention whether she realizes it or not. "Sounds like there's a hell of a story hiding behind that," he says. "I'd be down to listen sometime, if you ever feel like telling it." Because he's a red-blooded male and even if the store didn't sound interesting, he's not blind; she's hot. Why wouldn't he want to etch out some time to spend with her to listen?

Cam's eyes shift toward Jill and he gives a little nod and a smile before looking back at Lucy. "Ahh, you're that Lucy. We were talking about you for a second earlier. We're gonna have to find you a beer so you can young our beer snob club," he jokes. Her response to his question about whether she likes it here makes sense. Of course there's ups and downs, just like any other place. So Cam nods. "Fair enough. Well, here's hoping it's easy and nice more often than not for a while. A guy could use some peace to settle in, you know?"

[epeiste]

This rather large man in full Musketeer regalia stops off at the bar for a pint, or several, of ale. The Houndstooth has become one of his usual haunts here in Itinere. In 17th century Paris, Porthos often frequented establishments that sold spirits. He's quite the professional drinker. It stands to reason that he would gravitate toward that here.

After asking the pretty blonde behind the counter for some ale and something of an acknowledgement ofone another, as if Porthos is in here frequently, he slides up onto a stool, which really isn't much of a problem given his height.

Porthos looks to his left and, with a finger at the wide brim of his hat, nods a greeting to the other patron. "Monsieur."

[respinto]

Honestly, it's hard to miss this guy, even if Cam had been actively trying — which would've been rude, so he hadn't been — in that garb and maybe he's kind of...like staring, a little? He's totally staring and when the man turns to him and gives the greeting, Cam blinks a little, his eyebrows lifted with interest. Is there a Ren Faire in town or something? Because this guy's cosplay is legit, he thinks. That's when the smile finally comes and Cam nods back to him. Respect the cosplay, Cam, he reminds himself.

"Afternoon," he replies, picking up his glass again and giving it a little lift in the other man's direction before actually taking a drink. "You look awesome," he adds because he can't stop himself, even though he thinks perhaps one of the rules is that one isn't supposed to acknowledge that it's a costume at all? Cam's never cosplayed, so he has no idea, but that seems like it would be a thing? "Sorry, just...seriously, though."

[epeiste]

His cosplay is legit because it's authentic, the real deal even so far as the leather being scuffed up and battle worn. Also, it's legit because it isn't cosplay, which Cam has no way of knowing, of course. Poor Cam.

This is why when his looks are complimented, he's unsure of how to take it. He's, somewhat recently, been introduced to the idea of men finding other men attractive in that way. Fine attire in his own time has something to do with hosiery, silks, laces and wigs if you ask the royal family and the upper crust. The battle tested attire of soldiers, less so. Also, it should be noted that in his time, awesome means something awe inspiring. That doesn't quite match up to a soldier's attire either.

He rubs leather gloved fingers over the pauldron on his shoulder bearing the fleur de lis. The pauldron is scuffed with blade marks, not quite so shiny as it had once been. "We always say it's not really a uniform 'til it's been battle tested and worn thin. Used to be cleaner than it is now."

[respinto]

The details are incredible. Cam knows that some people are super into cosplay and since he assumes that's what this is, he's actually really impressed with the level of dedication this guy appears to have put into the thing. Of course, he'd feel like kind of an idiot if he knew it was authentic and not a guy that's really into, well. Cosplay.

"Seriously though, like, it looks incredible, that's legit, man. I'm Cam," he introduces himself, offering a hand to shake. He's here, he might as well meet new people.

Cam's always been something of a people person anyway. With the bar exam looming in the near future once he goes home, he figures now is a time to take the breather that'll probably help him clear his head. If he can pass it on the first try, it'll save him a lot of time and probably money. So, meet new people; make new friends. These are things that Cam typically excels at doing, so now seems like as good a time as any to start.

[epeiste]

"Porthos du Vallon, of the King's Musketeers." Porthos's leather gloved hand takes Cam's in a firm handshake. Really, it says a lot to him when people offer to take his hand. In Paris, in his time, even though he's worked very hard to become a Musketeer (harder than most, if he's honest), he's still looked down upon for the color of his skin. He's considered a Moor, and therefore inferior. Porthos just tries to prove that he's better than most. He works three times as hard as the others. It pleases him to, thus far, be seen as equal with this new face.

"And you have my thanks for your complimentary words, Monsieur Cam. I... can't bring myself to let go of it, even here." Yes, he knows more modern clothing is more comfortable. He prefers his heavy leathers. They're a comfort to him in the vastly unfamiliar territory he finds himself in here in Itinere.

The bartender places his brew in front of him and Porthos lifts the drink to his lips to take a healthy pull of it. "At least, in this strange place, there is ale, eh?"

[respinto]

Okay, so he's really, really in character. That's cool. Maybe, Cam thinks, they can get a beer sometime when he's being himself because so far, this guy seems pretty all right. ...he's new. He'll learn.

"You can just call me Cam, bro, it's cool," he offers. But that latter statement when it actually processes has Cam tilting his head a little with slight confusion. "What do you mean?" Give him a minute. He'll get there.

Cam raises his own glass with a grin. "No doubt, here's to that," he laughs before taking a drink of his own and setting it down again. "Have you been here for a while or...? I'm pretty new. I've only been here a couple of days, myself. So far, I dig it. I miss my sister, but...once I find my door, I can go back whenever I want, right? I mean, that's how it goes, or no?"

[epeiste]

Bro? What's a bro? He has at least familiarized himself with the modern day usage of the word 'cool', which has nothing to do with the temperature of anything. He's only learned this because of it's overuse by almost everyone from a time far removed from his own. Cool means good, right? It's a positive thing. Porthos likes positivity, so long as it doesn't border on naivete.

"My leathers. The uniform of a soldier." One fist bumps against the pauldron at his shoulder. "I understand that your manner of dress is easier to get in and out of as well as more comfortable. But I've trouble gettin' meself to try it except very rarely. Looks just fine on you. On me... well," Porthos reaches out to pinch the thin cloth of Cam's sleeve between his fingers. "So thin it's like wearin' nothin', yeah?" And it certainly has no chance to stop a blade from piercing your skin.

"Even the more genteel sort in my time wear layers and layers." Silks and cotton, but so many layers.

"A couple months perhaps." Porthos nods. There had been some time in there where he'd gone home to fight a war for a few years and then come back. But he's only been in Itinere a handful of months. "It's... peaceful for the most part. I keep waitin' for the other side to the coin."

His face scrunches up as he thinks about the doors. The ones that didn't open, then did, and now won't again. "Think it depeneds, with the doors. Sometimes they open, sometimes they don't. Surely if you've a sister who needs you, the door will allow you through." Porthos isn't exactly sure of that. He has an entire regiment of soldiers who need him back home, and yet... a locked door that he can't seem to barrel his way through. Trust him, he's tried.

[respinto]

It finally clicks for Cam when Porthos specifically says "in my time," and realization and shock both register on Cam's expression. "Wait, wh—you're like literally...you're literally a Musketeer? That's not, I mean, you're not...I...that's real?" he asks, gesturing to the uniform again.

It should make more sense to Cam that time travel could have a hand in this sort of thing, considering the way that they can go back to having home uninterrupted in their absence, according to the rumor mill. He just hadn't thought about it at all and now, suddenly, the possibility is jamming itself into its place in the mixed up puzzle that is Itinere.

His expression changes abruptly and he looks appropriately apologetic. "Oh, dude, I'm sorry. I...didn't...realize time travel, uh, was a thing? I just thought you were the best goddamn cosplayer I've ever seen," he explains. "I didn't mean to like...be disrespectful." Because he worries now that he had been and disrespectful behavior is absolutely one of Cam's biggest pet peeves.

For the first time though, since arrival, Cam feels a little uncomfortable about the doors. Everyone's basically implied that he can kind of come and go as he pleases. Porthos is suggesting that it may not exactly be that simple. "...and there's no rhyme or reason to it or is there a pattern of some kind to which ones will open and which ones won't…?"