calloperators (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
calloperators) wrote2019-01-14 05:25 pm
calloperators) wrote2019-01-14 05:25 pm
TEST DRIVE
> Hello, you have reached the 1-800-HOTLINE Test Drive. We are currently unable to take your call. Whilst we put you on hold, feel free to play around for a while...
Waking up
Go downstairs, to the lobby. Meet the others. Don't get attached, and don't mention this call.
The AC is busted and in this hot summer, you probably won't want to stay in your room forever.
Of course, there's much more around here than just the motel. Stepping out and hitting the town will give you plenty to do. There's stores aplenty, but that's nothing to say of the good residents of the stores; your friendly neighborhood bodega cats. They're content to laze around the aisles, though the more playful sorts may swat at your wayward accessories as you pass by.
Don't mind that they seem to disappear - and reappear - with a blink. That's just something cats can do.
Of course you are! There's plenty of places to eat here, but why go to some no-name joint when you can go to McDonalds? They've got burgers, they've got fries, they've got McPizza, and they even have a playplace! ...Though you're probably too old for the ball pit.
Regardless of what you order, if you even order, the cashier presses a small toy into the palm of your hand. Don't you feel a pair of tiny eyes on you?
For fuck's sake, someone only went and killed a guy in the McDonald's parking lot. Maybe his head is smashed in under that chicken mask, or maybe you'll want to check? You could do the right thing and work out who did this, or you could make off with his baseball bat. The choice is yours.
What good's a city that goes to sleep? When the sun goes down, the lights go up. The city becomes aglow with every colour of the neon rainbow, with bowling alleys, nightclubs, karaoke bars, arcades and soon-to-be-extinct roller discos competing for your attention until the sun comes up. You're here, there's no curfew, it's time to make the most of it.
Have something else in mind? Go wild, and party like it's 1989.
Ladd Russo | Baccano!
[When you take a flying leap off a speeding steam engine, you don't really expect to wake up in a stuffy hotel room with your girl nowhere to be seen, and some annoying gadget ringing next to the bed. Ladd couldn't remember the last time this had happened, to be perfectly honest.
He's a tough one, though, and he quickly shrugs off whatever that buzzing in his head is before checking on the other one. The lobby. Others, huh?
Well, it'd be rude to keep people waiting, and Ladd's looking for some answers himself. He makes his way down there posthaste. He basically skips into the lobby, hands in his pockets and suit jacket slung over his should because honestly it's just too damn hot.]
Yeesh, did New York decide to get super stuffy just for me?
[It should be noted that his clothes, presumably supposed to be all white, sure do have spots of bright red on them. Yes, especially the jacket.
Grin fixed on his face, Ladd turns to the nearest person, head tilting slightly.]
Hey. You look like you don't work here, but seeing as there's no one else that looks like they do, looks like I'm stuck here a while. And it just so happens that I've got a really important question.
[His grin stays, but anyone looking closely enough will note how his teeth grind together.]
You see a woman round here? Blonde, real dame. Probably still in a white dress?
[McMurder]
[Ladd strolls over to the body with more vigor than when he discovered exactly what a "McDonald's" was. He can't stop himself from getting his hands on that chicken mask, inspecting it, but not removing it. Yet.]
Well, would'ya look at that? First day here, I get to try some of the best food I've ever tasted, and now I get to just happen upon a dead guy in the parking lot!
[He chuckles giddily while he looks over the body.] Damn, you really took some hits then, didn't you? Must've been quite a fight. Or not. Maybe you're stupid mask got in the way, or you were too scared to react.
[Ladd audibly laughs, jumping to his feet. Either he doesn't notice all the blood smeared on his hands, or he simply doesn't care. Possibly both.]
Ha! Get it? Sucker's a chicken. He probably got spooked by someone else and they made it quick on him. What a sap.
[Night Life]
[Chicago's got nothing on this.
The lights, the colors, it's all like nothing Ladd's ever experienced before. He just wants to stand here, awash in the glow of nightclubs and whatever else they have around here. He's downright ecstatic.]
Ohoho, yeah! This is it! Man, I gotta come back here sometime, bring the boys, and Lua of course! So much to do! So little time, and so many colors! I don't even know what to do first!
[Don't pinch him, he doesn't want to wake up.]
waking up
No. I haven't seen any "dames" around here. Nor have I seen any of the motel staff.
[Early 20th century American slang. Spengler adjusts his glasses, careful not to make direct eye contact with him. The circumstances surrounding his appearance in this place only seem to grow stranger by the minute.]
Judging from my observations, this place does not appear to be New York--at least, the New York that I know. [He gestures to the nearby window.] For example, New York does not have the sufficient climate to grow palm trees. I would guess that we are currently located in some sort of sub-tropical zone somewhere in America, as the United States are the few countries that actually use motels, and the fact that most of the signs outside appear to be in English. Unless I can get a better look at those palm trees, I would narrow down our location to either California or the southeast coast.
[Sorry you got a five minute lecture on geography]