what's this? I can't believe my eyes, I must be dreaming

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what's this? I can't believe my eyes, I must be dreaming

WHO: Hans & residents of #009
WHERE: House #009
WHEN: Throughout the day
WHAT: meet your new Disney prince housemate
WARNINGS: doofuses. will edit if needed!

Hans was suffering from receiving too much information in a short time. He still wasn't entirely sure how he was taken from his kingdom (no, he had to mentally remind himself, not his kingdom yet) and he had split his time in the horseless carriage listening to the soldier and staring out the window, absolutely amazed, confused and slightly terrified by this world. And now, here he was, at his new lodgings, with so many things still confusing him and swarming around his head.

Truth be told, he was of two minds about the whole thing. He needed to get back home to Anna and to Arendelle, but this land was interesting, to say the least. Though, this idea of powers...he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. On one hand, the Queen was driven out of Arendelle because of her powers. On the other hand, if this file really was true, then some of these powers could be very useful-assuming no one found out about them, that is. Hans was perfectly content to keep this charm power a secret. After all, he had plans for that one, plans that revolved entirely around keeping it a secret and keeping it when he eventually went home.

But the second one...there wasn't any harm in making it public.

So, throughout the day, Hans wanders throughout his new house, testing his new power: locking and unlocking things. The house is too small for his liking and he does not like the idea of housemates, but he could eventually move up in the world. Who knew, maybe this waiter job was something fit for a king? (That was another thing he needed to get used to: working for a living. How beneath him.)

As he wanders through the house, Hans stops every time he sees a lock. Touching it, he locks and unlocks it multiple times, absolutely amazed by his really stupid power. So, House #009, enjoy a prince in princely regalia looking absolutely astounded by door locks.

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"What on earth -- Get out, get out!"

Frederick Chilton, doctor of Psychiatry and former Chief of Staff, was in the bathroom during the moment of his untimely unlocking. While elusive to the more humiliating possibility (no regal moments upon the porcelain throne this time round), he was nevertheless absorbed in a pristine task: he was trying to shave. Not holistically clean-shaven, oh no, only a near-death experience would ignite this creature of habit to obliterate all of his facial hair -- but the art of refining a specific shape and angle to well-kept whiskers required dedication, precision, and ample amounts of shaving cream.

Hans had caught Frederick in the middle of that last detail.

"Troy! There's a hooligan in the bathroom! There's one here right now, I see him!"

Flecks of shaving cream snowed as the man jerked; his shoulder seized, his voice rose. Chilton assumed Troy Barnes would be the most capable defender of the household, given the depth of the doctor's patriarchal bias. Besides -- weren't mechanics supposed to be good with their hands?

The problem with being rudely deposited in your living arrangements was that nobody briefed you on what the rooms were. So, what Hans had assumed to be a closet turned out to be a bathroom-unfortunately a bathroom with a man inside, who had started to scream and yell at him. Hans put up his hands in a defensive position...but that was before the shaving man called him a hooligan.

A hooligan? That was absolutely ridiculous. He was Prince of the Southern Isles, not a hooligan. Brushing a fleck of shaving cream off his face, Hans glared at the other man. He was already confused about this place, he didn't have time to deal with this man as well.

"I'm hardly a hooligan! Apparently, I'm your new housemate, according to those people that brought me here."

"A new housemate."

He had to repeat the phrase, the reality sinking in. That gates had opened, then, and their populace was swelling -- which, as consequence, would prove beneficial to Chilton's agenda. Of any specific population that he had previously encountered, imPorts were statistically more likely to suffer from interesting psychological abnormalities.

Perhaps his next meal ticket was looking him right in the face.

"I wasn't informed that we had acquired another housemate," he said, his hand groping behind him to grab at a hand towel. His eyes tried to keep some constant connection. "You'll have to forgive me for the misunderstanding."

Shaving cream soon wiped again, Chilton glanced at the oval bathroom mirror before him, impulsively fixing any unseemly detail. Then he turned to Hans, his smile anxious to showcase white teeth.

"This isn't the most auspicious of first impressions -- I thought I had locked that door."

"Perfectly understandable," Hans simply replied, smiling at the man, as he went to wipe the shaving cream off. He still stood in the doorway, smiling at the man, not moving out of the way, and mirroring that smile with one of his own.

As for the question...Hans had enough sense to realize that 'oh, I barged into the room because I was testing out my new superpowers and didn't really care if anyone was in there' was a really terrible answer and one that would give off completely the wrong impression. So, he simply smiled, as if trying to put the other man at ease. "Don't worry, I've had worse introductions with people. I...well, I hit someone with my horse once."

His smile morphed into a bit more of an awkward expression, trying to look appropriately apologetic at the idea of hitting someone with his horse.

"Unintentionally, I presume?"

Presume, rather than hoped. Chilton had always been careful in his choice of words, which made those frequent daggers in his smile all the more cruel. The man wasn't someone keen to be misunderstood, assuming whatever message conveyed was one intentional. He adjusted his shoulders, pulling them back, presenting a firmer figure. Chilton was used to enjoying a certain degree of authority, and while he viewed his newly minted station in Heropa as a downgrade, that was no reason to appear humbled.

Especially not before fresh, interesting housemates. Especially not ones so charming.

"I'm Doctor Chilton, by the way -- Doctor Frederick Chilton," he said, extending a hand to shake. "Have you already had a tour of the housing unit? If not, I can certainly oblige."

"Of course it was unintentional," Hans responded, still smiling. Of course it would be unintentionally-what other options were there? Either this man thought that he was insensitive or he was simply pedantic. Hans was hoping for the latter.

As Chilton offered his hand, Hans shook it. "Pleasure to meet you, Doctor Chilton. I'm Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles." He gave a little bow to the man, partly out of politeness, partly because he simply wanted to see Chilton's reaction. "And no, I haven't had a tour of the unit." He had simply poked around for a while, finding a place to store his winter cloak as well as that file about him that they had given him. "I'd love one, though."

Chilton took a step back, disbelief written along his transient sneer. A prince? A prince of a place he's never heard of? The man who had witnessed him with a face full of cream was a blue-blooded royal? Chilton swallowed, a lump rising in his throat, as he observed the poised and perfect bow. Months and months ago, before ever having touched ground in the City, Chilton would have written the other man's story off as lunacy -- delusions, clearly! But given the granite evidence of imPorts and powers and other worlds (other universes!), this little factoid was all too plausible.

This was all just a rude awakening, for the doctor. He was no longer the highest rank of society within his own household.

"I suppose we ought to begin with your room, then? I'm sure there's one left, logically belonging to you, ah, Prince Hans."

Hans noticed that sneer and disbelief. Still keeping up appearances, he frowns slightly, a bit confused as he watches Chilton's sneer. Most people had...different reactions to meeting a prince. This man was going to be interesting.

"Please, just call me Hans," he said, with a smile as he looked at Chilton. "But yes, starting with my room sounds like a great plan."

Kate's not going to take up the initial job offered to her when she arrived last month. It's tempting in many ways, nostalgic even, but she can't bring herself to trust in the military of this world so soon.

Maybe never, and it's with a heavy heart she tells herself that.

She's spent the day job hunting, a couple of pit stops on the way "home" to pick up some necessities like milk, bread, and eggs, and some pamphlets for Chinese takeout she'll be passing onto Nill.

The front door swings open quietly, but Kate's footsteps can be heard entering through the doorway, unaware just yet there's a stranger inside the house. The dog that's accompanied her throughout her day, however, takes an instant notice, trained to be a companion and guard dog.

The large, black dog growls in the direction of the hallway. Kate, now on edge, sets down the bag and pushes in the door, doing both without a sound.

Hans is busy locking and unlocking doors like he's that sea otter stacking cups at a zoo, so he barely hears the door open but definitely hears someone else enter. That must be housemate number two-hopefully more likable than that man who was shaving. Standing up, Hans walks out towards the main entrance, hoping to make a good impression on whoever the person who just entered was. After all, if he was going to be stuck here, he at least could try to impress or ally himself with the other captives.

So, as he walks out of the hallway, he nods at Kate...and then almost instantly spots the large black dog growling at him. Today just was not his day. "I'm your new housemate," he says, trying to be reassuring, smiling slightly, trying to give off the impression that he was not threatening at all and please don't sic the dog on him. "At least, assuming you live here and aren't just visiting. I don't really know if you are or aren't."

Kate doesn't lower her guard. Though this stranger looks friendly enough, looks can be deceiving and walking into a house with someone fiddling with the doorknobs makes her suspicious at first.

But as she surveys him, she notes the outdated (but expensive) clothing. Given the layout of the home and the technology of this place, she wonders if he's simply confused.

"Easy girl," she shushes the dog softly and Schnitzel ceases her growling immediately, sitting upright and quiet. "They didn't mention new housemates." Kate can't help a frown. "Did you arrive today?"

Hans smiles at the woman, trying to seem as nice and as nonthreatening as possible. "Yes, I did arrive today. I must admit...I really don't know anything about this place. They tried to explain as much as possible to me on the way here, but to be honest, this has left me a bit confused."

He took a few steps towards the woman, smiling still, trying to seem calm. "I'm Hans-Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles."

That's no fault of his; Kate hasn't been able to come to much herself in the month she's been here. It frustrates her, but for now, she eases up before Hans, just another victim of the situation.

She does arch a brow at his title.

"Prince... Hans." Or should she call him just Hans? "Kate Kane. I'm not familiar with the Southern Isles, unfortunately."

Hans had been hoping that his princely reputation would at least garner a bit of respect and answers among these people. Unfortunately, Kate's response annoyed him more than anything else. How could she not know about the Southern Isles? Granted, he was the youngest of thirteen so he could understand if she hadn't heard of him specifically, but she still should have known about the Southern Isles.

This was horrible. Still, Hans kept up his smile, trying to appear happy and nonplussed, if a little worried, by the fact that she hadn't heard of the Southern Isles.

"Please Kate, just call me Hans." Smiiiiile. "I hope you don't mind, but I have some questions. This place is..." Scary. Confusing. Annoying. "Different from what I'm used to."

She finally bends over to pick up her bag with the groceries. The dog hasn't left her side and she hasn't faltered in her staring at Hans with small, focused black eyes.

"Anyone would. It's alright," she says and begins to move toward the kitchen. She doesn't look back to see if Hans is following, assuming he will. Rude.

"How many people did they bring in?"

And why? Were forty of them not enough?

Of course he's following. Kate's one of the few people here that's been helpful and is giving him actual answers. He is sticking to her until things start making sense.

"I wish I knew-I didn't see anybody else when they brought me here." He pauses for a moment, looking at the dog, then back up at Kate. "I tried to ask the soldier who brought me here, but I really didn't understand most of what he was saying. Is it true? Are we really stuck here?"

As she reaches for the door handle of the fridge she pauses, eyebrows pulling close together. After a couple of seconds, she regains her composure and pulls open the fridge, dipping a hand into the bag to pull the milk out and push it inside. She repeats this motion for the eggs, glancing back at Hans with a sympathetic frown.

"For the time being." She knows nobody wants to hear that. "I'm sorry. The first group's only been here a month now."

He crosses his arms over his chest, frowning slightly. That...well, he simply couldn't accept that. He had a kingdom of his own to get back home to, he couldn't accept being here with these people who he had no idea who they were and didn't care about. He had to do something.

"That's...disappointing," said, with a frown, his expression more worried than anything else. "Well, is there any way to send a message back home? I can't leave my kingdom unattended." Not like this, not now with Arendelle in an endless winter.

"No, there usually isn't." It appears to be the same case in this world. How convenient, she thinks to herself. They're willing to bend backwards for the imPorts and pamper them, but they fulfill the most important requests.

She closes the fridge after the eggs are arranged to the side and goes to the pantry to put the bread inside. At the bottom of it she drags out a large bag with a dog's face printed on it: dog food, obviously. She calls Schnitzel over and pours food into her bowl. The large dog tears her attention away from Hans and begins to eat.

"I don't know how it works here, but back in the City time worked differently. It 'froze' back in our worlds, so when we finally return home it's as if no time has passed and nobody has noticed you were gone."

If time truly did freeze back in his world, then Hans wasn't so sure what to think about that. On one hand, wonderful. This gave him more time to plan things out, to finally iron out what exactly he would do when he found Anna and they brought back summer. He had ideas of how to get rid of her, obviously, but they were just ideas: nothing more.

On the other hand...if time did stop back in his world, then whoever brought him here must have some powerful sorcery. He'd have to be careful around them.

And wait, the City? Nobody had mentioned something called the City. Hans's expression shifts to confusion. At least this is something he can actively question, unlike the rampant speculation about what was happening at home. "I hope this isn't a dumb question, but what's the City?"

Kate is momentarily confounded, having thought someone from the base would have explained or mentioned the part about the City. Perhaps her expectations are too high... or that the City is not relevant to newcomers who have never been there.

It's an unsettling realization regardless. They deserve to know what happened. She only hopes he's not as meek as he appears.

"... We were in another city before here. It was called the City." She pauses for effect, knowing how ridiculous it sounds. "Another universe."

Hans frowns as he listens to Kate. Truth be told, the idea of some people being in another world before coming here is a little bit ridiculous. But, then again, he thought that going to another world was impossible (as were cars and the portable icebox.)

Needless to say, Hans was slowly reworking his definition of 'impossible.'

"I'm terribly sorry," he says, after a pause. To be away from home for that long...it was awful. "How long have those people been doing this?"

The death of that universe had her aching for Gotham more than ever recently. If there is a way back through the military's Porter, she has to have faith it'll malfunction the way Lachesis tended to.

"It's alright." It isn't, but she doesn't want to dwell for the time being. "Nearly thirty years, but they stopped some years ago."

And then she and the others arrived about a month ago.

"They didn't tell you much?"

"Truth be told, I didn't understand much," Hans admitted, frowning slightly. He hated to admit that he had no idea what was going on, but really...he had no idea what was going on.

"I don't understand half of this," he said, with a large gesture towards the kitchen as a whole, encompassing the portable icebox, that tiny box that made things hot and the faucet from a seemingly unlimited well. "We don't have things like this back in my land."

She would assure he would get used to some of it in no time, but maybe it isn't so reassuring when it implied he could be here longer than he wanted to be and stressing out her new housemate is not her intentions.

"You're in shock, it's fine." She leaned against the sink. "Did they give your a communicator?"

A communicator? Hans frowned for a moment. Then, reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the communicator, showing it to Kate. "Do you mean this?"

Fun fact: he had no idea how to work that.

Kate's eyes scanned it over briefly and she nodded.

"You can use it to talk to others who also have a communicator." She got the sense she would be showing him how exactly to use the device. As simple as it was, she also had the feeling if she told him it worked a bit like a radio that he would not get that reference.

"It's not hard to use," she added, trying to be assuring.

Yeah, he has no idea what a communicator was. You're totally showing him how that works.

"How exactly do you talk to others on this device?"

Figures.

She waved her hand, asking him to hand over his communicator so she could demonstrate for him. She set it on the kitchen counter, her back turned so the top edge of her tattoo was visible. She gestured to a power button on the device and as it loaded, she began to point out each of its option one by one.

"Text is like writing a letter to someone. You hit the letters on this keyboard ―" she pointed to the rows of letters and numbers and for emphasis, typed in his name. It printed on the screen of the communicator, "Like that."

Hans hands over his communicator, watching as she sets it on the counter...and quickly getting distracted by her tattoo. Was that...why would a woman have something like that to begin with?

But then Kate started demonstrating, and Hans turned to watch, nodding as she powered on the device and typed out his name. "And how long does it take someone to receive this text?"

Have fun explaining instant messaging, Kate.

Wait until he learned what that nautical star signified on women.

She made a vague gesture with her hands. "In seconds. It's instant." She wasn't sure how else to describe it. She paused and then added, "Think of it as having a face-to-face conversation, but you can both be on other ends of the city."

"That's..." Something he can't understand? Near sorcery? Something he probably won't understand? "Certainly something I never would have expected," he finally responds, looking at the little communication device.

"So who can this talk to? Other..." oh, what was the term the soldier used, "other 'imPorts'?"

"Only imPorts, right." She nodded and lifted the communicator, holding it out to return it to Hans. She has been surprisingly patient, if only due to the fact Hans is not the first nor will he be the last in learning his way around technology.

It's somewhat interesting to watch people like that learn. Royalty or not.

"Our tattoos are supposed to double as a security code for its use."

As he takes his communicator, Hans pockets it. When Kate mentions the tattoos however, he can't help but take a glance at his. It's barely visible in this light, but he knows that it's there.

"How can a tattoo double as security?"

Hers isn't marked REGISTERED or UNSETTLED, as she hadn't come to a proper decision regarding where she stood. She wanted to serve since she was a kid, with every fiber of her being to do good and make her parents proud.

But not like this. She didn't want to compromise on her beliefs. A soldier doesn't do that.

"They slipped something into our bodies. A sort of technology."

At this point, it's good that Hans doesn't know much about technology. He's more confused than blatantly outraged. He looked at his tattoo, also not marked Registered or Unsettled.

"Surely I would have felt something if they put technology in me." Because he has absolutely no idea how tiny these things can get.

So had she, but one moment she was running for some kind of door in the heart of Atropos, and the next she was nearly stumbling over a familiar yet unfamiliar platform in the military's labs where the Porter was kept. The skin hadn't been torn and there hadn't been an indication of an injection via syringe.

"I don't know how they did it."

"How reassuring," said in a tone that implies it's not reassuring at all. Kate was one of the more capable people that Hans had met and was slowly cementing herself in his mind as 'person to talk to if you have a problem.' The fact that she didn't know how they were managed to be tattooed wasn't helpful.

She could only offer him an apologetic look instead.

"This level of technology is new to both of us." More so for Hans, obviously.

"I'm glad that I'm not alone in that regard," Hans remarked, with a small little smile.

She had no doubts Hans would pick up the basics quickly; his level of interest confirmed that much for her and he listened thoroughly. She herself needed to find a way to hack it so she could scramble its location and ID if she ever needed to use it anonymously. She had the feeling with more imPorts coming in, she would have to eventually.

Schnitzel continued to chew noisily, bits of her food falling around the floor near her dish.

"There's an empty room down the hall. It's yours." She wondered how the others would take to a prince living among them. "You can help yourself to the food and drink in the fridge."

He had already found the empty room in his poking around the house-but Kate didn't need to know that much yet. "Thank you!" Hans simply responded, all pep and energy, smiling at the idea of having a room.

Though, another problem soon popped up in his head. "Though, I hate to ask, but there aren't any servants here, are there?" He's royalty, after all. Things like cooking or doing his own laundry aren't exactly Hans's strongest suit.

She hoped to god Hans would not ask that in front of Troy.

"No, we don't have hired help." She doubted they could afford to employ someone full-time and she didn't like the idea of someone entering the household when she hadn't been able to find some place to stash her cowl and equipment.

"We have a stove and a machine for food and laundry."

It's lucky that he's getting the lesbian all the potentially offensive questions, isn't it?

As she mentioned the machine, Hans couldn't help but frown. A machine that did laundry? Well, he had never heard of something like that before. "You'll have to teach me how to work the laundry machine," he said, with a little shake of his head.

"So I've become the hired help?" she teased him, moving back toward the fridge and pulling the door to pull out an apple she's kept cool inside. She rubbed it against her shirt before taking a bite out of it.

"Do you have clothes to wash now?"

She didn't mind showing him, but all things in at its pace.

"You're simply someone who knows how to work the machine," Hans teased back, grinning at Kate.

"And no, I don't. I suppose that's my first order of business here-getting something to actually sleep in."

She sized him up very quickly again; there was no way he could fit into Troy's clothes and Chilton wasn't exactly a tall man himself... before Hans, Kate was the tallest person in the household, but her own clothes, aside from being quite feminine, would also not fit Hans' frame.

"Chil... Frederick isn't close to your size, but borrowing from him is better than nothing."

As she mentioned Chilton, Hans couldn't hide a little annoyed frown. Yeah. It's obvious what he thinks about Chilton.

"You're right, I suppose it's better than nothing."

It came as a mild surprise to her and quickly Kate filed away Hans' reaction. She would observe the two later, but she could guess what it was that elicited a sour response so soon from Hans.

"There are shops in the town. Thrift shops aren't too bad if you know where to look." She missed her lavish life back in Gotham always and the privilege of buying whatever she wanted, but she had learned how to budget and what she could wear and still rock in spite of the price tag.

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what's this? I can't believe my eyes, I must be dreaming

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the otters have slayed me

aren't they the best?

the cutest ahhhh

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