strangetrip | Check-In: Not-Mother Hen

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Check-In: Not-Mother Hen

Kitty sat at the bar with a cup of coffee and her notebook, watching the 'welcoming committee' make themselves busy. Liz was here, as she'd promised Kitty she would be and Kitty gave her a quick smile of encouragement.

One of the worst things about Check-In Days was that you never knew whether it'd be a whole long day of no one arriving, one spectacular fall from the ceiling and dropping dead after another, or anything in between. It made it hard to know what to do with yourself. After awhile, you got used to it and just kept on with whatever you'd do otherwise, and know that if you didn't step up for a new arrival, someone else would. But for someone not used to treating it like a responsibility to be here, especially someone with Liz's anxious need to be perfect at it, Check-In Day could be emotionally exhausting.

So Kitty made sure to have milk warmed for hot cocoa and her plans for the obstacle course handy in case Liz needed something to do with herself. Otherwise, she was working on a modification of Cerebro to see if she could start detecting new arrivals.

[ooc: Regular check-in day gathering post. If you want Kitty, ping me.]

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The last ten minutes of Bradley Baker's life was a whirlwind he wasn't sure he could ever explain to anyone. Getting Caleb out of the cabin had been the most important thing, but he had been so worried their dad would find him wandering outside. When he got the second floorboard up from the room they were trapped in, Brad knew they needed a distraction. Even after all that, their dad still managed to find them. If it hadn't been for Luc.

"Come on, Come on. Caleb, come on!" Brad shouted, pulling at his brother's arm. Dad's killing Luc. He killed the other guy. We need to get out of here

They ran and found the pick up truck. Luc and Richard's pick up truck.

"Where are the keys, Caleb?" He shouted as he climbed into the driver's side.

The car was covered in snow, but it didn't matter to Brad. They were getting out of there. Except the truck wouldn't start. And then their dad was there and Caleb was shouting and their dad broken the passenger window. Finally the engine caught and Brad punched the gas, but their dad hung on.
Where are you going?
We have to stay together. We have to stay together.
I'm your father.
Please don't leave me.
How can you leave me?
Please, it's only us now

"You're hurting him, let him go!" Bradley shouted, trying to keep his brother in the car as their dad tried to pull him out.

Then, just like that, Caleb managed to kick their dad free and they kept driving. Bradley couldn't breathe. Caleb was crying. Brad was trying not to cry too.

As the adrenaline started to wear off, the lingering affects of the hypothermia began to press upon Bradley. He need ot get them to safety.

Between one long blink and another as his eyes drooped, Brad went from the darkness of the forest at night to sudden sunshine and desert. His eyes widened and he slammed on the brakes. The pick up screeched to a halt.

"Caleb, are you okay?" He asked as he looked at the passenger's side to see his brother gone.

Panic set in. Brad put the truck in park and quickly got out.

"Caleb?!" He shouted, turning around in circle. Then he spotted a building. "Caleb?!"

He ran wearily into the building.

"Caleb?!" He shouted, looking frantic, asking anyone nearby. "Has anyone seen a 12 year-old kid?"

Liz was nervous. Maybe more than nervous, but she hadn't quite figured out what that adjective was yet. She felt as if everyone was aware Liz was 'working' today and they were all waiting to see if she messed up or not.

She sat in the lobby trying to study, but it was clear she was re-reading the same page over and over again - the information didn't seem to seep in for some reason. It felt almost like she were on stage or in the background as an extra of a movie and she needed to make sure she was 'performing' alright.

And then the boy ran in and Liz jumped to her feet immediately. She felt a wave of panic because the boy was panicking. She hadn't expected panic on her first time, though she probably should have.

Liz took a deep breath and tried not to hurry over there too obviously. "Hey, um. It's okay." She held up her hands as if to show she wasn't a threat - you did that to scared animals, right? "Your brother might be here, but he'd be safe if he is, I promise, but, you need to calm down, okay? I can explain everything." Sort of, anyways.

And then Liz got a good look at the teenage boy's face and her heart almost stopped. He and Peter could be brothers. There were obviously differences - the hair, for one - but their facial features.

Cue Liz standing there, blinking and staring at the new arrival who was freaking out.

Brad looked at Liz when she approached, but immediately wanted an adult. Even if she's a pretty girl, I need someone who can help me.

"I need to find my brother. He's 12 and he's going to be scared and..." Bradley trailed off.

A wave of exhaustion set in and he slowly blinked. His body swayed and looked like he was about to fall down.

When the guy trailed off, Liz thankfully snapped out of her stupor. She saw him start to sway and her eyes widened again before she reached out to steady him. It was hard because she wasn't exactly strong by any means.

"Are you okay?" She frowned. There was no way she was going to be able to hold him up so she looked around and tried to guide him toward one of the lobby couches. The boy looked like he might be sick. "Where did you just come from?"

Brad felt weak, but fine. Probably from everything with my dad...

He sat on the couch and let himself sink into the cushions. He frowned and looked worried.

"I need to find my brother." He repeated, but couldn't find the energy to sit up.

Liz frowned, sitting next to him. She didn't think Miguel or Mack were his brothers and those were the youngest boys here. Unless there was another new arrival... how did people do this all the time. She took in a deep breath.

"Wherever you came from... this is a different place. I don't just mean like, it's a different town or something. It's like... an alternate world. Like in a science-fiction movie. Only it's real, which I know sounds really crazy, but it's true." Liz looked not-Peter over. "You look like you came from somewhere cold. It's, um. It's summer here and the desert." He probably saw that if he had been outside. "As for your brother... I'm - I'm sorry, but... he's probably still back home." Her eyes widened and she brought up her hands as she quickly added. "But don't worry! He's fine -" hopefully " - it's, um. Some people think time is different here? So you're not actually gone for that long back in your world." There were other theories, but this was seemed the easiest to explain right now.

Brad listened with a furrowed brow and confused look. Is this girl nuts?

He thought of the sudden change in weather and the new place and difference in time. He inhaled deeply and looked at her without moving.

"Say I believe you," He said, "Which is a big if since it sounds crazy. How do I get home? I need to talk to my mom and make sure Caleb's okay."

She glanced over to where Kitty was, just briefly, and then back to the boy. She could do this, she could.

"As far as anyone knows... there is no way of leaving." She frowned again. "I'm sorry... But... I promise you think place isn't so bad." Except for the no mom and brother thing.

"My name is Liz. Did you, um. Did you want to talk about it?" Her eyes looked over him again. "Are you sure you're okay." He really did look sick.

"I'm fine." He snapped, then his voice relaxed. "I'm just tired, okay?"

You don't even know what I've just been through.

He closed his eyes and processed everything. Bradley knew this sounded entirely crazy, but it didn't feel like he was dreaming. He opened his eyes and side-eyed Liz. She does seem nice, though. And pretty. Like Melissa.

"I'm Brad." He replied. "And, uh. I just came from North of Sudbury. It's the middle of winter there."

He could see outside that it did not look like winter here.

"I don't really want to talk about it." He answered, looking down at his lap. "Let's just say I didn't have a good weekend with my dad."

Brad felt his eyes burning as they welled up. He held his breath and made a line with his lips. He held any potential tears at bay.

Liz had no idea where Sudbury was, but she figured it was somewhere cold since he was in a jacket and a beanie and boots. It never got colder than the need for a hoodie in Roswell. But before she could even say anything about that, he was talking about his dad and then... was he about to cry? Liz felt her chest seize up - did this happen with every new arrival? She floundered as she sat there. What should she say or do or look like? In a panic she did the thing she'd do if this were her friends back home or even here. Liz reached out and hugged him.

A hug from a practical stranger was enough to distract Bradley. The tears stopped threatening to appear.

"...thanks." He said awkwardly. What was with girls and hugging?

She detached herself and scooted a little farther away, looking entirely sheepish. At least it looked like maybe it had worked? Though now he probably thought she was some over-emotional crazy person.

"I know this is all really...weird." Which was probably an understatement. He apparently was not used to weird and crazy like most of the people at the inn were. "But the inn is kind of nice? I mean, the people here aren't so bad." She felt lame saying that.

Liz paused and wet her lips. "I'm sorry your brother's not here. New people come to the inn all the time, though." So maybe, right? "And... there's a bunch of people here our age so it's not entirely lonely."

Brad pulled off his wool toque which released his mess of hair. With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair.

"So let me get this straight," he said. "I got someone sucked into this place like some cheesey sci-fi movie. I can't leave and my family isn't here. Sound about right?"

Brad looked to Liz and realized it was a rhetorical question.

"What do I while I'm stuck here?" He asked. "What do you do?"

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It wasn't until later that Vax came around to see what newcomers had found their way to checking in. He noticed the built, scruffy fellow with the voice talking to Kashaw first, because how could you not? And he did watch that with amusement, for a few moments. But it was the other he saw off in one corner by himself - young, sad, shaken - that he turned to meet first.

"Hello," he started small, in a soft voice he'd been told sounded vaguely 'British'. The half-elf all in black was somehow both contemporary and not at once. He had jeans and hooded shirt, paired with medieval boots, a silvery belt in the shape of a snake, and skinny beaded braids run through his long hair. "You're one of the new arrivals, yeah?" His eyes were dark, but kind.

While Liz had told Bradley that there were people here that weren't quite human, he didn't think he believed her until he was faced with some guy with pointed ears. Maybe it's just some body modification or make-up.

"Yeah, I'm new." He answered, eyes drifting over the man. "...are you an Elf?"

Caleb liked Lord of the Rings enough he had to endure watching them over and over again so he had seen Elves in media.

Vax tensed just slightly, very much like he'd been insulted out of the blue. But he managed to keep most of it off of his mug. It wasn't this boy's fault, anymore than anybody else here had the slightest to do with Exandrian elves being major dicks.

"Father was," Vax admitted, to get that bit over with and not confuse the new arrival too much on the point. "That's how I've got an elven name - I'm Vax'ildan. But my mother was human, and she taught me and my sister everything that's most important in life." He cocked his head slightly, looking over the younger man. "Are you human?" It was a bit of a cheeky turn-around, but a relevant question at the Inn, actually.

"Uh, yeah, I am." He answered. So this guy is a... Half Elf? Caleb would really like it here. "I'm Brad. This place is... Nothing like home at all. It's not even the same season."

He looked tired and fatigued. The hypothermia still lingered within him.

Vax nodded slowly, though his attention was more for how wrung-out the boy looked than what he'd said. Knock him over with a feather.

"Are you-" It felt terribly stupid to ask if he was 'alright.' He wasn't, of course, not after having landed here. "Are you hurt? Ill or injured? We've got healers and such here."

"I'm just, uh," he said with a slow blink. "Tired. Didn't sleep a lot over the passed two days."

Brad rubbed on of his arms. He was still in his winter jacket and toque. He wasn't ready to tell anyone about what happened with him, his brother, and his dad.

Exhausted, more like.

"There's a room for you, if you want to rest, and there's food and drink available." He thought of offering to Lay Hands on the boy, but that probably wouldn't sound quite right to someone tired and wary, especially if magic was unusual to them.

Vax gestured to a pair of empty chairs set at a table instead. "You could sit, at least. We don't have a whole lot in the way of explanations, but if you've questions you want answered, I can try."

When Bradley's eyes saw the chairs, he suddenly felt a strong desire to sit again. He nodded and slipped into a chair. His shoulders slouched like standing had been hard.

"I keep thinking if I don't check in then maybe I'll just be sent home," He said after a moment.

Vax slid smoothly into the seat across from him. "It takes time, for it to sink in." He didn't blame the boy. It took a lot of doing to accept you were trapped in some other world, and a lot of things - anger, sadness, frustration, confusion - often went along with that. "What were you doing, before you found yourself here?"

"I, um..." He trailed off, looking down at the table top.

He thought about the cold and his father and Caleb. Bradley took a breath.

"Driving away from something. With my brother Caleb." He finally said. "I really hope it's true we're not missed because... Well, he needs me."

Vax stared at him for a moment, as the other stared at the table. He couldn't help but be struck by how much he identified with fending for yourself at a young age with a sibling in tow.

"Best as we can figure, us being here is like... Making a copy of a key," he tried to think of how to explain. A copy of a key you pressed into wax to save yourself some trouble later. "The life you remember from home still goes on, and that other self keeps on doing what you would've done there on your behalf. We're one or the other, the key or the copy. No one seems to notice that there might be another you out there somewhere. Does that help at all?"