You know my name

The thing about living right next to J,GoB was that if one was sufficiently charming to the staff, they could be prevailed upon to deliver pastries still warm from the oven directly to your door, and Bond had more than enough motivation to be charming when fresh pastries were involved.

That, as well as the sunny but still cool weather, was how Bond came to be sitting and people-watching on his front door step with a mug of coffee and a bag of assorted Danishes by his side.

[Expecting one, but open.]

The first thing James noticed when he woke up was that he hadn't been woken by a maid. The next thing was that his bed was uncharacteristically comfortable. Brushing a stray lock of thick black hair out of his eyes as he sat up, he looked in confusion. The room was spacious, warm, and airy, the complete opposite of the cramped, dark, school dormitories he'd gotten used to in the last few years.

His confusion grew as he explored the room. For every book on the shelf that he recognised, there were several he didn't, there was something that might possibly have been a typewriter if he could figure out where to put the paper, the clothing in the closets was mostly good quality but far too large, and while he found a British passport in his name, it was an obvious fake, given its issue date seventy-odd years in the future and the photo of an unfamiliar man at least twice his age who was a blonde of all things.

Still, James was not one to be easily daunted, and after checking the doorknob and finding it unlocked, he pulled on on a pair of trousers that were baggy enough to make his lanky frame look even skinnier and ventured out to investigate the house proper.

[Open to the housemates. Bond is now the version of Bond from the Young Bond YA novels.]

It had been a mistake not investing in a good set of drapes, James decided, as the morning sun slid into his eyes, despite his best efforts to screw them shut. Frowning, he sat up and reached across to the night stand to check what the time was apart from 'far too early'.

Unfortunately, the problem with expensive watches like his was that they all too often had a date feature. Which made cheerful repression just that much more harder. Still frowning, he kept staring at the watch.

[for one, but open to any of the housemates if they want]

Although his eyes flew open, Bond didn't wake with a start, or melodramatically sit up, gasping and panting. In fact, apart from the light sheen of sweat, there was nothing to indicate he'd had anything other than the soundest, deepest, most comfortable sleep in years. He definitely didn't look like this was the third or fourth time he'd woken for the exact same reason.

Glancing at his clock, seeing the glowing numbers mocking him, he gave up on sleep and got out of bed. He paused only long enough to pull on a pair of shorts before pulling out the bag stored in the small fire safe under his bed. Once at his desk, he ignored most of the bags contents, at least beyond a check that they were all still there and intact, interested only in the slim white phone. Pulling up that final text message, he turned on his computer, trying to access MI6 databanks, only to be stymied once again by whatever it was that that enabled him to be eighteen months in his future, but wouldn't let him contact anyone back in the past. He was certain that M had planned on that too.

Carefully returning the phone to the bag, then the bag to the safe, he stretched back out on the bed, resigned to spending what was left of the night staring at the ceiling.

[Establishly.]

Lord Asriel eyed the strange room warily. It was nowhere near austere or cluttered enough to be the rooms of an Jordan scholar, and despite the faint chill in the air when he opened the window it was was far too warm to be anywhere in the north. Especially not Svalbard, which was currently at the top of his list of places he was likely to unexpectedly wake up.

The obviously anbaric light fittings and strange devices placed around room only added to his feelings of disorientation. He looked back at the bed he'd woken in, as if could reveal any more clues, but only saw Stelmaria stretched out on the covers. The snow leopard daemon was grooming herself, lashing tail the only indication she shared his agitation.

It was obvious that he wasn't going to find any answers here. Deciding to explore this unfamiliar place, hoping to discover at the very least where he was, if not his reasons for being here, Asriel made his way down the hall, Stelmaria padding by his side.

[Open to any of the housemates who might be around.

ETA: Bond is Lord Asriel from His Dark Materials for the weekend, and due to the fact that humans in the universe he comes from have animal manifestations of their souls/spirits called daemons that accompany them everywhere, he'll have a snow leopard named Stelmaria in close proximity at all times. ]