Happy to end the tour, btw.
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Generally used to being invisible to New York State high society, Stella actually looks behind her to check that Aurore wasn’t winking at someone else before she smiles back. Nice to see Aurore coming out of her shell. This should be entertaining.
Stella likes to be in the thick of things, so she’ll pick a room near the stairwell.
Stella and Vincent both see Mrs Gill, the brunette, shrink reflexively as she catches sight of a cobweb. Her eyes linger on it until she manages to tear herself away; then she keeps her eyes firmly down.
Asking about the fire escape prompts an apology. “Do excuse me, Mrs Clairmont. I forgot to mention, you can reach the fire escape from the pantry. The pantry door is never locked; the fire escape door can always be opened from this side.”
i.e. your humble GM didn’t think of adding one to the map! Assume it isn’t visible from the common room
He has the grace to look abashed, and scratches his neck. “If you’d seen the place when I first started work here… it isn’t quite the Ritz, I’ll admit. We’ll see what we can do if you need anything particular. Certainly, any adjustments in terms of bedding - extra pillows, harder mattresses and so on - please let one of the nurses know.”
He’ll point into the closest empty room. “Each room has a net curtain, a blind, and a real curtain, so you should be able to adjust the lighting to your satisfaction.”
“Now, I suggest you inform the staff which rooms you’d like, make yourselves at home - as best you can - and then enjoy a little free time before dinner. The gong will ring when it’s time for us to go downstairs.”
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@Abubu asked for a die roll:
“I would think us patients would be hard-pressed to be protected from a fire if we cannot escape via the barred window Doctor,” Antonella mutters under her breath. She had done plenty of research on the ‘primitive ideas’ he was referring to prior to deciding to take her chances. Needless to say, that knowledge did not improve her sleep in the weeks leading up to her departure.
Despite her lack of faith in the facility’s fire safety, Antonella will choose a room without a window facing the dark treeline at night. As if her imagination needed any assistance tormenting her throughout her dreams.
Rolling against Observation 3d6: 6 + 3 + 1 = 10 vs 12 to notice Mrs. Gill
(Rolled 2,2,3 on observation 13. Someone may need to explain macros. )
Mr Howard immediately goes to inspect the room closest the fire escape, before returning to the group.
“This will do for a few days, as long as you aren’t planning straight jackets and the like, my friend!”
He sighs, rather than laughs at his own awkward joke and goes to his pocket for a mint to suck on.
“I’m not the happiest about the bars, but if I may have that room please, and we keep smoking to a minimum.”
{roll 3d6} only with square brackets rather than braces, and the result will be substituted in.
The system will take ownership of your post to stop you changing it, so make sure you’ve left your character name in the text.
Aurore grins to try and lighten her heavy heart. The place felt so clinical. So depressing. It seemed unlikely the answers to her problems lay within these harsh whitewashed walls. ‘Some of my favourite times ever have been within bars, so maybe we’ll have more fun than we think.’
‘Seriously though, doctor,’ she says, gesturing vaguely to the unclaimed room nearest the bathrooms, indicating the room she wishes without needing to say it, ‘I think it’s only reasonable to request some books, magazines, even if they are out of date, extra pillows of course and… you must have a gramophone? Or a piano, at least. A little music would go a long way dispel some of the cobwebs, and I do find it helps me relax greatly. I’m not sure the surroundings here are suitable otherwise.’
(I think the bedroom next to the storage room (and with a window) hasn’t been taken?)
If so, Stella takes her overnight bag there, arranging her torch and copy of The Second Shadow on the desk and putting her flannelette pyjamas* under the pillow. She feels, with her hand, how warm the iron radiator is, wondering if she’ll need to make use of her hot water bottle tonight. Brrr. She keeps her camera in her bag for now, but her notebook and pencil stays in her rather voluminous jacket pocket.
She looks around her room for signs of dust and/or cobwebs. Running her finger along the furniture and looking up at the corners of the ceiling.
*I found this amazing 1920’s advertisement for a onesie!
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Duncan and Antonella notice Mrs Gill is a bit tense (but not why).
Those of you who examine the bars will see they can, with a bit of effort, be unscrewed. It looks like they were more designed to avoid accidents or break-ins than escapes. They don’t seem to have been unscrewed in years - probably since the place was built - and between age and the cold they’re very stiff. A determined couple of minutes’ work, a burst of strength, or the janitor’s toolkit will do the trick.
Feel free to remove those bars if you wish, or send for someone to do it. Just let me know.
I’ll do an updated map when I’m home showing your rooms; no worries, this isn’t a dungeon crawl.
Thorne looks thoughtful. “A piano would be a good idea. I’m not sure we have one on the premises, but I can ask. A gramophone shouldn’t be a problem - I’ll have one brought in, and a selection of records.”
"As for books, there are a few in the common room, poetry and travel and that sort of thing. I kept it small to limit the chance of playing into any of your anxieties. Still, we can arrange some more, and an assortment of magazines. Nothing work-related, I’m afraid, and no news or politics - but hobbies, literature and suchlike should be fine.
The radiator is on, and modestly warm. Stella notices it’s been turned to “low”, perhaps because these rooms are currently empty. It gives the impression it could be volcanically hot, given the chance. The sheets are fresh, clean, and extremely neat.
Running a finger around, the actual furniture is clean. There’s a slight sheen of dust on the skirting board, but nothing worse, and no sign of cobwebs.
love the advert!
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Vincent raises an eyebrow at “nothing work-related” and “literature” but works on his bars under the guise of unpacking.
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New map! Vincent is currently the only one with a barred window, which he has now unbarred. The others - so I don’t deprive you of light altogether - have frosted glass sash windows onto the north corridor, which can be blocked with curtains in the normal way. These are not barred, and you can open them to clamber awkwardly out into the corridor if you really want to. You are satisfied they are very frosted and therefore not a privacy issue - even less so than a window to the outside.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Qug1KGF8SXLdIgvnyV1ko6naPiI9GSgx/view?usp=share_link
Now with Stella!
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Stella chooses a room with a window facing towards the outside, at the opposite end of the corridor to Vincent (sorry if I didn’t make that clear).
Stella is pleased to see that the bedrooms are web-free at least. She is fond of spiders herself as long as they keep a respectful distance. But for an obvious arachnophobe, as Mrs Gill appears to be, well… it would make for a very uncomfortable night’s sleep.
It doesn’t occur to Stella to try and remove the bars from her window, but she does gaze out at the wintry view for a while, before turning the radiator up a notch and heading back to the common room to see if Aurore’s ambition to liven things up have made any difference yet.
Returning to the common room, Stella finds that a gramophone has indeed been unearthed from somewhere. It certainly isn’t the latest model, but it seems to work - the strains of a gentle waltz begin to pour out into the room as May Leiter sets it in motion.
Celia is back reading, huddled cosily into an armchair in the corner. Mrs Gill is pacing up and down near the windows. The irritable Rowe is talking to PC Newton, whose eyes wander around the room.
Once he’s finished working on his window and unpacking, Vincent returns to the common room, and starts looking through the available music for something more jazzy. (He suspects this won’t take long. He’ll do it twice just to be sure.)
(Stella to McQueen) “I don’t suppose ‘The World’s Jazz Crazy, and so am I’ is on the hospital’s playlist?”
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“You never know… but no, nothing here to cause any offence, except perhaps to good taste.”
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Nurse Faber, who’s been talking to Jacobs, gives the two of you a sympathetic glance. After a minute, she drifts in your direction. “It’s pretty bland, isn’t it? That’s the stuff they got in for the fundraiser ball - a lot of old fusspots. If you can wait until tomorrow, maybe we can sneak you something with a bit more pep.”
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After Antonella packs away her things into her room, she takes this opportunity to get some exercise in. The trip here left her a bit stir crazy and since she imagines she will not be allowed outside to walk, she decides to utilize the decadent spiral staircase, huffing as she climbs the three story building and catching her breath again on the way down. Ever since her affliction began, her nightly exercise became a point of comfort for her.
There was something curative about moving her body; walking until her thighs burned and lungs desperately clawed and grasped for air. Sometimes it helped her fall asleep, her physical exhaustion overpowering the fears and anxiety of a mind under siege but more often than not, she would wake more exhausted than the night before, with a soreness that permeated muscles she didn’t even know she had. Still, it was something within her power to do and she did so with the fervor of a woman desperate for salvation. Even if she herself doubted in a higher power, she craved for deliverance from the trials placed before her.
A few laps later, her legs like jelly and face flushed a bright red, she returns to the common room. Her libations complete, she sinks into one of the plush chairs; reveling in the ache and burn of time well-spent. She can almost feel the lull of sleep as the music of the gramophone surrounds her in a melodic embrace. She closes her eyes, entranced, as her body cools down; oblivious to the other patients in the room.
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Vincent wilnks at Nurse Faber, and slips her a few dollars “for her trouble”.
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Stella hopes that Vincent’s cash down payment to Nurse Faber will also cover an extra request from her:
“I’m wondering, is there any way the cleaning staff could give this room a bit of a dust?” Stella lowers her voice slightly so that Mrs Gill doesn’t overhear, “I’m thinking in particular of any patients who might have a fear of spiders… if you give me a broom, I could do it myself even. I had a work colleague who was ailurophobic, so I know how debilitating such conditions can be. I can’t tell you how many times I had to remove cats from a room on his behalf. They seemed to absolutely love him unfortunately.”
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