Generation NeXt

"Yes, grandpa, you know I'm going to be careful, god, you'd think I'd never done a stakeout before," Jacelyn (better known to friends as J.C.) says as she walks towards a bus stop, rolling her eyes for her own benefit, "Okay. I know. I won't mess up. Bye."

She hangs up, readjusts her massive backpack stuffed with her homework and her carefully packed costume underneath it, and turns the corner of the block to find a sprawling garden. J.C. blinks and turns right around, not quite processing this right away, and finds yet more grass where the street.

The word she says next is omitted in the name of good taste, but it expresses deep distaste and a good measure of frustration. 21st century girl in the house, everyone.

Richard is beginning to make a more thorough survey of this place, grounds included. He is attempting, it seems, to draw a map, but is finding that things have a propensity to move on him. This is causing a bit of increased frustration on the doctor's part, and he could stand distracting.

Miss Catherine Morstan is not best pleased. She was not consulted before being transported into this place, however luxurious, and she is not accustomed to being overruled this thoroughly. Besides, Mamma will be beside herself when she gets home, and that's never any fun.

She stands on the terrace, still in her hat and coat, with her arms folded and her pretty chin set at an obstinate angle.

And then, one day, things wake up.

The guest register has vanished. Behind the massive reception desk sits a small, elegant woman with her dark hair pinned neatly back. Pinned to her blouse is a discreet tag reading Clarissa Medina. Calls to the front desk are now answered promptly, in a warm and serene alto.

Inside the restaurant the bar is lit up and the kitchen active. Those who seat themselves are promptly attended by a young and sweet-faced blonde with a sunny smile. Her nametag reads Keri Elliott. Occasionally she pauses on her way by to exchange words with the bartender, a slim, dark-eyed, ageless man by the name of Jesse Hancock.

Returning to one's room, one may find a woman just leaving: Jenna Russo, her dark hair tied back in a scarf, her smile a little mischievous. Beside each phone is a small card reading Room Service is now operating; this is invariably carried out by a slightly tousled young man whose nametag reads, somewhat portentously, Kenton Graves.

[Open post! It was decided that NPC staff would keep things interesting, so here is your chance to get to know them.]

A man in late Victorian clothes turns a corner and abruptly stops. For one thing, the sudden relative absence of stench means he can no longer be in London. His eyes catch up with his nose an instant later, and he frowns. Out of curiosity, he takes two steps back around the corner, but still finds himself in a strange, clean and sunny building looking like no place he's been before.

He sighs. "Oh, hang it all, I did not need this today."


T: Richard Carstone Jr. is the son of Richard Carstone and Ada Clare from Charles Dickens' Bleak House. He never knew his father, who died before he was born, but was half raised by his mother's friends Alan and Esther.