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The Boards, Sunday

It was bad enough he couldn't remember who he was or where he was. But to wake up and figure out he was TRAPPED IN A COFFIN?! He'd passed out.

When he'd woken again, it had taken what seemed like forever to yell his fool head off and then scratch his way out of said coffin... to find himself in a very nice office and not buried six-feet underground. Not that he wasn't grateful, of course, it just didn't seem to make any SENSE.

He had puttered around the room and then a few of the others on the same floor, trying to find something that would help him figure out what he was doing there, why he'd been in a coffin... and yeah, who he even was. He found lots of papers in a desk drawer that, what he could read of them since they were in some really weird handwriting as well as in a different language! mentioned a theatre? Which made sense with all the scripts and props and things he'd also found. Didn't help answer the question of who he was or why he'd been sealed in a casket, but it was one less mystery at least.

The noises he heard downstairs, when he'd finally found the staircase, still had him slightly concerned, though. It was this late at night and there was so much banging and grunting and shouting? Hmm. Maybe it would be best to stay where he was until daylight... He'd eaten some of the food he'd found in the office next door and crashed out on a rather large chair in there (he hadn't wanted to go back to the office with the coffin). The next morning, he cleaned up in a bathroom and fiddled with his outfit as best as he could figure out (so COMPLICATED!) and when he seemed dressed enough to still be acceptable in public, he made his way downstairs.

He managed to avoid the very odd looking people moving about the theatre and found his way to the door. Finally! Freedom! He could escape and find some hospital or something and get some help! Surely someone would know who he was and why he'd been held prisoner in such a weird place!

He checked again and then made a dash for the main door. It gave some slight resistance but another tug had it open and he ran outside into the sunlight.

It wasn't until he reached the center of the street that he realized he was on fire.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

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Jonothon was... mostly sure that he was supposed to be the only person on fire around here.

He'd been walking up and down the streets, trying to find a place called The Boards. There had been a large amount of paperwork for it in the room he'd woken up in yesterday, and a lot of it was made out to him in particular, so he figured, if there were any answers to be found about anything, perhaps he'd find them there.

What he found, instead, was a man screaming and burning down the middle of the road. Which, while not even particularly surprising in the wake of everything else since yesterday, was at least somewhat distressing.

//Hang in there, mate,// he said, shrugging out of his coat and throwing it over the other man in an attempt to snuff the fire. Sure, it meant that his own flames were more visible than they had been, but this bloke seemed to need it a little more. //Nobody ever taught you to stop, drop, and roll, I'm guessing?//

Luckily Jonothon was speaking directly into the person's head and not actually going through any sort of language filter because

"/I don't know what you are talking about,/" he hollered. "Ajutaţi-Mă (https://translate.google.com/#ro/en/Ajuta%C5%A3i-M%C4%83!)!!"

The flames were extinguished where the coat was covering him, but when the coat shifted even a little they darted up again.

Edited 2014-09-07 22:14 (UTC)

And there was something about that, about flesh exposed to light taking to flame, that had Jonothon's brow furrowing a little in recognition. Something deep in his head screamed at him to just rip the coat away and let the man burn.

The rest of him was a little more compassionate than that, fortunately.

//It's the light,// he shared, and now he was pulling off the t-shirt he was wearing and trying to get that around the rest of what was exposed until he could shove the man into the shade. //Stay out of the light, mate. It's killing you.//

"/The light? But it's just the sun!/" Though that sounded a little familiar.

Then after a moment's pause, it made no sense again.

Still, he let himself be wrapped up and bundled into the shade. The relief he felt was immense as the flames disipated. Sure he still smoldered some, but he wasn't en flambe.

"Vă mulțumesc." He then got a better look at his rescuer..."/But, you're on fire now!/" He began struggling out of the wrappings to try to help the other man.

Well. That was a t-shirt to the face. Just what Jono needed, really.

//...Ow. No, relax, mate. Apparently I'm supposed to be.//

Yeah, he sounded about as thrilled about that as one might imagine. He'd had a lot of things thrown on him since waking up with no memory yesterday.

"/You're supposed to be?/" That had him stopping and then leaning in to peer closer. "/Now that you mention it, you don't seem to actually be burning./" He poked at a flicker. "/Doesn't it hurt?/"

And why didn't EITHER of them find it odd?

Although to be fair, he'd woken in a casket 'buried' in a theatre office, so his 'odd' ante was pretty high to start.

And Jono had gotten all of the silent, mouthless screaming out of his system yesterday. He was mostly just coasting along in 'resigned but pretty sure he's crazy' mode, by this point.

//It doesn't feel like much of anything,// he replied, waving a hand at the poking finger and scrunching up his nose a little. //If you have any guesses about how or why, they're probably about as good as mine.//

It was probably for the best that Jonothon hadn't realized just how much he was soaking up from Dracula in order to be carrying this conversation, for that matter. Jono didn't speak Romanian, after all.

And he wasn't even really aware that his new friend wasn't speaking at all, so they were even.

"/Sorry; no ideas or guesses. Or, I don't think I do. I can't seem to recall much beyond waking up yesterday./" He jerked a thumb in the direction of the theatre. "/I think I may have been kidnapped or something and lost my memory; I don't even know my name./"

... "/You don't happen to recognize me, do you?/"

//I wish I did, mate. It would mean that I recognized anybody.// Jono gave his head a shake. //I woke up yesterday with no memories at all. The person I woke up with had the same problem. I don't think it's just us, but I'm told it's not unusual for around here, and should wear off eventually.//

So, that was good.

"Nu are nici un sens." He rubbed his chin. "/Why would people live in a place that this srt of thing isn't unusual./"

He looked back out towards the theatre with a sigh. "/I guess I have two choices, then. Go back to the theatre and see if there are any more clues. Wait it out there. Or,/" he grimaced, looking down at his clothes which were, oddly enough, no longer as burned as they had been a moment ago. "/Try to find some way to get around that I don't catch fire and hope I run into someone who knows me./"

//We found somebody when we checked Raven's telephone history,// Jono offered. //Doctor Lecter seems to have all of his memories intact. I know it's ridiculous to assume that everyone in the same area would know everyone else, but it might be worth looking into?//

"/A doctor!/" He perked at that. "/That would be good! Do you think he'd see me? Even if he didn't recognize me, he may be of some aid! The idea of returning to that coffin.../" he shuddered.

"/Where can I find him? It's not to far, is it? My, uhm, allergy, if you will./" He stuck his hand into a beam of sunlight and was depressed to see it start to burn.

//Your unnaturally severe sun allergy?// Jono watched as the fire started again, wincing sympathetically. //It's a bit of a hike from here for you, I'm afraid.//

In fairness, it could be across the street and Jono would probably decide it was a bit of a hike from here.

//Sun's got to go down sometime, though? Or he might be willing to make a, er, a house call?//

He nodded slowly, withdrawing his hand and watching as the flame went out and the skin started to heal. Huh.

"/I don't relish the idea of sitting here and waiting for evening, but I don't know that I have much choice. I don't have a house. That I know of. I've only been in the theatre since I woke yesterday./"

//The theatre, hm?// Jono looked up toward it, and then back to Dracula. //I could keep you company for a while, if you like. I'd been headed there anyway. And if it's a theatre, there's a good chance that there'd be something in the costuming room that we could use to cover you from the sun, at least.//

He stared at the oddly shaped phone. He'd called the doctor that his new friend had recommended (http://fandomtownies.livejournal.com/7371029.html?thread=271794709#t271794709) and, after some rather interesting linguistic dancing around, had managed to ask the man to visit him at the Theatre and help him.

At least, he hoped that was what he'd asked.

[WOOOOOO SP LOVE!!!]

Whyever it was that the island had decided to play havoc with people's memories, Hannibal devoutly hoped that it would end soon; too many of his friends were endangering themselves because of it.

Or that it would keep going for a while; that could be quite interesting, too.

But given it was likely to just be a weekend, that ruled out having fun and left him with trying to help his friends not die. So, here he was at the theatre, based on the Count's recognizable voice and enough similarity to the Romance languages he did know that he guessed the man had lost his memory, too.

"Hello?" he called, heading inside. "Pronto, sei lì?" Italian had seemed the best bet for both of them.

He raised an eyebrow, concerned. "/Are you sure? The people there are rather odd looking and speak strangely. Not to mention, they kept me locked in a casket./"

Jono... wasn't going to point out that he was pretty odd-looking and spoke strangely, himself. If this man hadn't noticed yet, it didn't make much sense to bring attention to it.

//Apparently I've got something to do with the ownership of the place,// he replied, shrugging his shoulders. //Tell you what- I'll personally deal with anybody who attempts to shove you into a casket again. How's that sound?//

You mean like randomly exposing different parts of himself to light sources and seeing what would set him on fire?

Oh! The doctor!

"/In here! In here!/" He leaned into view and waved the man over. "/So glad you could come! Thank you!/"

Something like that, yes.

Hannibal smiled as he walked over to Dracula. "/Good afternoon, Count. I'm Doctor Lecter./" In case he hadn't figured that out. "/How are you doing?/"

He gave his new friend a teasing look. "/You're not the one who ordered my kidnapping and you're just trying to get me back into that coffin, right?/"

He didn't believe it of you, sir; you put out his fire!

"/Doctor! Welcome! I think I am fine? I hope you can tell me./" He held out his hand to shake. "/Count? Is that me? I am sorry, but I do not remember./"

"/It is./" He shook Dracula's hand. "/Count Dracula. You are a successful hotelier, managing the theater here for a time. Don't worry; most of the island seems to have lost their memories. I'm certain it's only temporary./" More or less.

//Oh, come now,// Jono replied, looking fairly amused, himself. //Don't you think I would remember doing something like that?//

It was funny to Jonothon for obvious reasons.

"/Well, I do hope I'm the kind of person that a man remembers,/" he laughed. "/And forgetting a kidnapping is very sloppy work./"

"/May I again borrow your things? To make the trip back?/"

"/That is a very odd name./" He... Count Dracula noted. "/Though it does have a slightly comforting feel to it. And I am glad to hear that I have business here; I was afraid I had been kidnapped and brought here./"

The Count waved Doctor Lecter into the office. The one with the coffin, unfortunately. Oh! Maybe it was a stage prop!

"/So the memory loss is an epidemic? I don't need to be concerned about injury?/"

Hannibal chuckled. "/I doubt you need to worry much about injury at all, but no. It seems to be one of the whims of the island. And you are here completely of your own free will. So far as I'm aware,/" he acknowledged.

//Of course, mate,// Jono replied, looking at least faintly amused as he once again arranged his coat over Drac's head. //Let's make this as quick and painless as we can, hm?//

Putting people out was going to be quite the theme for the weekend, wasn't it?

He gave him an amused eyeroll. "/Only someone permanently on fire could say that and get away with it,/" he chuckled and set his shoulders. "/Alright. Walking with haste or the indignity of running?/"

Jono raised his eyebrows, looking at Drac as innocently as possible.

//Wouldn't be my indignity, now would it?//

He had a point there, Drac.

//It's less undignified if you run with purpose, though.//

"/I must be a very strange man to willingly live on an island that randomly erases my memory./" Count Dracula ~~had his ping erased by flakey internets~~ raised an eyebrow, curious, as he chuckled. "/Why would I need not be worried about injury at all? Because you are my more than capable doctor, perhaps? Always at the ready, to respond to a sniffle from the dramatical Count./"

Dracula paused a moment and looked towards the window. "/Does that title mean I live in that castle?/"

He sincerely hoped he wasnt in charge of the island that randomly made people lose their memories!

He made an amused face at his friend. "/That depends on how well I run, doesn't it?/"

Hannibal chuckled ~~and totally sympathized with the lost ping~~. "The island has other good points. And no, you have rooms at the hotel, I believe."

Hm, how to explain the rest to him, since he'd clearly forgotten everything? "While I would be more than willing to assist should you need it, it's my understanding that vampires aren't susceptible to illness."

Wait, he was saying...

"Vampir?!"

It may not necessarily sound like it, but the Count had reverted to his native Romanian.

"Eu sunt vampir?!"

It was clear enough what he was asking, no matter what the language. Hannibal raised an eyebrow. "/Did you think your reaction to the sun was normal?/"

The Count ran a hand through his hair, calming his breathing. "/I... didn't think of it; it seemed something I didn't need to think about, but I was also rescued by a man who was already on fire./"

Hannibal nodded. "/That would be Jono. He is...something else./" He somehow doubted "genetic mutation" would mean much to a man who'd tried to nail an iPad to the wall. Particularly as even Hannibal had no idea how genetics in Jono's world worked. "/There are many different sorts of people here./"

He wondered briefly if Pinkie had lost her memory, too, and swore to himself to walk the other way if he saw her coming.

//Is that you proposing a race, or am I going to have to carry you?//

Jono was game for trying either, Drac. Be forewarned.

"/I see. And I am a vampire./" He glanced over at the coffin. "/Things do add up when I consider that possibility./"

He gave the doctor a wry smile. "/I do hope you believe me when I say I did not know and intentionally call you over as a trick. I am not sure what they would be like, but I do not think I have any desire to eat you./"

Hannibal laughed. "/I would never think it of you. We're friends; I've no intention of eating you, either. Or any other nefarious plans. You should have something worth drinking in the refrigerator there,/" he said with a nod to it. "/You lamented at my last visit that you had no human drinks to offer./"

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The Boards, Sunday

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And back in the Theatre, much later

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