Hannibal's Hotel and Restaurant

Who: Ichigo Kurosaki, OPEN
When: Afternoon
Where: Lobby
What: Ichigo is bored and restless and not looking for Clarice at all no really
Rating/Status: PG-13 at worst cos it's Ichi/Incomplete

A certain red-haired teenager had found himself becoming more restless than ever, his hotel room making him feel confined and caged. Ichigo had listened to the bulk of Ishida's borrowed CDs, worked on most of his homework, and had made several calls to room service in an attempt to find out what was going on. For some reason he kept getting a lost-sounding girl who repeatedly invited him to eat smoked cheese with him. Huh.

Eventually, Ichigo took the elevator down to the lobby, intent on forcing himself into interaction with anyone, as long as it took his mind off his problems. Under his shirt on a string hung his contained of soul candy, just in case. He plopped down into a handsome looking chair and began absently flipping through a copy of Les Mis that someone had left lying around, wondering where the hell everyone was. The lobby seemed eerily quiet for the afternoon.

OOC: Come in and poke Ichigo ♥

Who: Nyanko-sensei, tagging the Doctor (/any/ Doctor)
When: After meeting Ten in the library
Where: Hotel bar
What: Looking for a Doctor, any Doctor.
Rating/Status: PG-13 at worst/Incomplete thread

The bar was familiar to Nyanko-sensei; it was here where he had met the mysterious spy Bond and had his first shot of booze from outside time and space. He had a feeling about this place, like it was the kind of place to attract time travelers. Nyanko-sensei wondered if he should have put a personal ad in the newspaper: single cat-shaped ayakashi searching for any resident Lord of Time for conversation and adventure.

Couldn't be too hard, waiting around for the Doctor he met - all skinny legs and pinstripes - or the others who were also 'him' to show up. His senses were quite keen on picking up the scent of Time Lords after a first meeting, and he was pretty sure that he could tell one of the Doctor's selves on sight. If he couldn't, it would be awkward, to say the least.

Nyanko-sensei shuffled onto a barstool and ordered himself a bottle of shochu, not wanting to waste time with shots.