The Collinsport Inn is a small inn that only has 10 guest rooms.

Currently, the following rooms are occupied thusly:

Room 2 (because someone drew a strange pentacle on the floor of room 1-- why does that keep happening to guests right before they sneak out without paying?) is occupied by Cecelia Rryn, who told the innkeeper that she'd come to Collinsport to be the governess to the young Collins girl tomorrow (but she arrived a bit late to be going up to Collinwood tonight, oh no, no one would want to head up there after dark...).

Room 3 is occupied by Father Kyle McCree, who didn't state his business, but who presumably is in town on some sort of Church business-- perhaps an exorcism? (He seemed a bit, well, nice to be a hard-bitten veteran of many exorcisms, though...)

Prof. Everett Willoughby, a distinguished fellow, was given room 5 by the innkeeper because she thought he might like the peace and quiet of a room with no one on either side (maybe the last guest in room 2 would have stayed longer if she hadn't had to hear room 1's horrible shrieking in the night)

And room 10, up on the top floor, was given to one Bigby Macintyre (who didn't state his business), just because that's the room the Inn traditionally gives to charismatic young men who come into town and don't state their business (they tend to like a lot of privacy).

Who knows but that they might meet up in the lobby or something, though, for all I know, thought the innkeeper.

Cecelia knocked on the door of the Professor, being well schooled herself, she was hoping for some suitable company over a late meal and some coffee if the gentleman was so inclined.

She was dressed prim and proper, well some charms showing but not in an indecent fashion and was gently scented and made up to not overdo it.

She waited for the gentleman to answer the door in her hands a notebook and notes on the planned education for her charge, once she assessed her and spent a day or so enjoying some recreation with her charge.

Before knocking, Cecelia could hear the sounds of music playing from an old gramophone record, with all the characteristic sounds of crackle and hiss. A strange, shrilling flute, accompanied by sparse piano arpeggios. A few second after the knock the music came to a halt, and the door opened.

"Yes, yes, I'm terribly sorry," was the first thing Professor Willoughby said as he opened the door. "I promise to keep the racket down," he added, but then stopped, noticing that the visitor wasn't the innkeeper, but a young lady.

"Oh, pardon my manners! I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting you earlier. My name is Professor Everett Willoughby, from the Boston University, Massachusetts."

The Professor is dressed in tweed. Clearly he was getting ready to go down to the inn himself.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:53, Sat 02 Dec 2017.

"The music was fine, I'm Cecelia Rryn and graduated from the University of Bologna where I earned my Dottore Magistrale in Philosophy its equivalent of a MA in the field. Well I was going to go to the coffee shop for something to eat and some proper coffee and was wondering if you care to join me and I would feel safer with a gentleman with me at night. Unless your busy.," she asked politely of the gentleman.

"Well, one certainly wouldn't expect to see an alumnus of such a distinguished institute knocking at one's door - but Collinsport is a place of pleasant surprises! I will be more than delighted to accompany you, Ms. Rryn. Just let me get my cane."

The Professor went back into his room for a few seconds, then reappeared, now holding an ornate cane. He locked the door, then, in an old-timey gesture, offered his arm to Cecelia.

"And what is your main area of studies, if I may inquire?"