I USED TO DREAM THAT I WOULD MEET A PRINCE

[checkingin]

Who: Everyone!
Where: The initial arrival rooms, the main lobby, all over the place.
When: May 7th
What: Feed me, Seymour

ARRIVAL.

you wake up when you hit the floor in a dark room, and the air is knocked out of your lungs. the carpet is threadbare, worn with use, kind of dusty. and you're not the first person to endure this crash landing. nor will you be the last.

once your vision rights itself, you can see the well-lit hallway through the doorjam straight ahead of you. not to say there’s monsters in the shadows, but something propels you towards that door and out into the bright hallway beyond.

and once outside your room, you can hear it: the steady thrum of rain outside.

MAIN LOBBY.

there's a staircase at the end of the lengthy hallway you tumble out of. grab your suitcase and follow the dull green exit signs on the ceiling until you reach the disappointingly bland stairs that lead you down to the ornate old fashion hotel lobby.

to your left is an richly crackling, rather excessively smoking fireplace, to your right is a lobby desk. straight ahead are three large sets of doors, all three of them thrown wide open and welcoming. and outside the few (curtained, permanently dark) windows is the continually steady hiss of rain. once you leave the hallway you wake up in, you won't be able to return.

welcome to the hotel.

FRONT DESK.

though there is a bell and a plaque designating the desk to be the main desk, the customer service desk, there are currently no staff members behind it. none shall answer your calls, either. there is, however, a pad of paper and a pen neatly aligned with the desk edge. you know. for notes.

terribly sorry for the inconvenience.

SCREENING ROOM.

on a long pull-down screen, a silent version of alice in wonderland will be playing on loop. at the back of the room, between the neat rows of fold out chairs, mounted on a wobbly table is the old-timey projector, and mounted on the walls are some rather old speakers that warble out "terrifying" old music.

along the curtained windows is another long table, with a large bowl of chipotle cheese popcorn corn and a large hot drink dispenser full of hot water, with a few cups and some old looking packages of apple cider mix.

DINING HALL.

is tragically, painfully empty.

OTHER.

the ballroom is currently open, and the grand doors unlocked.

there is no main door leading to the outside, good luck trying to find one.

the doors to the courtyard are unlocked.

ROOMS.

you've a room key with your assigned room number on it. all the new guest residences will be located on floors one and two. while there is an open elevator in the main lobby, and the buttons light up inside, the doors will not close. all in all, you'll be better off taking the stairs.

while they're the same stairs you undoubtedly came down to get to the lobby, the door to the endless hall everyone woke up in will not reappear between the main floor and the subsequent residential halls.

there are twenty rooms per floor. feel free to get to know your surroundings; or your neighbors as they trickle in around you.

EXISTING GUESTS.

are you dreaming of omlettes and regretting complaining about the constant pancakes and weak ass coffee yet?

Comments

[cgrades]

ａｒｒｉｖａｌ

[ Charlie has been in worse situations -- waking up in a dark room, then compelled into an equally creepy corridor? Cake compared to waking up tied to the Tube tracks. That doesn't mean he's any less wary -- his breath feels tight in his chest, mind working a mile a minute, examining walls and windows, as well as the other suitcases lined along the wall.

He isn't alone here. Which is both a comforting and disturbing thought. He has no weapon save for the suitcase, but he keeps close to the wall's edge as he moves out of the corridor and to the steps. Anyone coming around the corner may well be faced with a tall British man, and maybe even a decisive thunk of a suitcase to the knee or shin. He doesn't necessarily look apologetic. ] Oh, terribly sorry, I seem to have gotten turned around. Can you point me the way out? [ He never was any good under pressure. ]

ｌｏｂｂｙ

[ He's already put his suitcase away in the sparse (and poorly maintained, poorly decorated) room. Really how he ended up in a place like this is beyond him altogether. He's just wandered into the dining room, and found it empty, devoid of food and is now leaning against the wall nearest the fireplace in the lobby for some of its warmth. ] No doors unlocked and the windows won't open. This has to be a joke, mate. A right good one, too.

[ He doesn't even know the person that's walked up, but he's trying to play it as cool as he can, trying not to looked panicked by the turn of events. He's supposed to be on a plane to a bunker in the mountains, not here, where he'd be in danger when V Day finally happened. He doesn't realize that being here is likely much worse. ]

ｒｏｏｍ １１６

[ Charlie's returned to his room, the door left ajar. He's turned his room inside out, as if waiting to find some monitoring device: a camera, a bug, anything. He's almost sure that this is some wicked test of the Kingsmen -- that he's being punished for his betrayal. When he turns up nothing, he sits on his bed, face in his hands. ] Shit.

Lobby

[ukase]

[He had explored his own suitcase contents and been accepting of the items that he had brought with him, though it was sorely lacking in certain weapons that he always carried with him on any mission. Even the little Swiss army knife that was his go-to for any mission as a civilian had the knife missing, which he knew was not his doing. He would never have such poor maintenance of his items.

Disgusted with that aspect, he had set off to get his bearings and with his diary and the stolen pen from the lobby, he set about getting a basic sketch of the place and see about the various rooms. There had been that hint of popcorn that he had seen in his earlier encounter and if there was a starvation scenario, he was perfectly fine hording food.

He looked up from adding notations of windows and doors at a British accent, raising a dark eyebrow. His gaze flicked once over the other man's appearance - basically a kid - and he went back to writing.]

If you want to feel like home, the courtyard doors are unlocked. That's only if you want to stand in the rain.

[cgrades]

[ He doesn't necessarily expect a reply, as he was more talking out loud, but the company is perhaps better than losing his mind on his own, right? Charlie eyes the man from his place near the fire, and is even more curiously eyeing the sketch. ]

Yes, well I think I've seen plenty enough rain in my lifetime to know I'm not fond of it. [ Getting wet and wandering around a place like this, no less with minimal belongings and food around? No, thank you. It sounded like a death trap. ]

Have you toured the whole building, then? [ There's a hint of skepticism in his otherwise polite tone. His brows are furrowed slightly, lips twisted slightly downward. What good would a map do? ] I'd much prefer to get out, myself.

[ukase]

Considering you probably live on a large island that once considered itself the center of the universe, you'd think a little rain would just set the mood for your continued prissy world dominion. [He hadn't been to the courtyard aside from the peer out to make sure that 'yes it is raining buckets and it's foggy'.

He snapped his book shut with an audible noise and stuck the pen behind his ear casually.] Join the club, kiddo. So far, I've found no escape, but that doesn't mean much of anything on initial touring of the facility. Have you seen any staff?

[cgrades]

Oh, I suppose you've well figured me out then. Here to continue the prissy world domination, one ghastly hotel at a time.

[ Nope, not impressed with the rather tongue-in-cheek history lesson. ] But terribly sorry if you disliked your visit to England so much. Perhaps it was just a bit too far above you, then? Don't worry, it does happen to the best of people. So I hear.

[ He doesn't take to antagonizing very well, but everything is spoken in a sickeningly polite, clipped tone. ] No staff. Only other people who've turned up otherwise displaced. Right good time this is, especially if we've no way out.

[ukase]

Well, my powers of deduction have never been sharper it seems.

[He hadn't disliked it at all, actually. The number of times he had been there to leap-frog to some other piss poor area of Europe was extensive. He had, actually, gone on vacation there once; he wasn't much of a tourist.] I doubt you'd know, silver spoon and all. [He smirked; he liked a guy with bite.] And who said I disliked it? I happened to find British history and its dominion on most of the known world to be fascinating.

[Displaced was a good way to describe them.] There's always vast games of hide 'n seek to pass the time.

[villainously]

If it's a joke, I think we all forgot to laugh.

( Hook is...... mildly troubled by how much smoke the fireplace is giving out. he's seen men go down by smoke alone, and he's not sure they need any more ways to be unhealthy in this blasted place. there's not that much reprieve from keeping the courtyard open, and he's tempted to try and douse the thing entirely.

it's just coincidence that someone's speaking to him... and that he assed himself to answer, really. Hook is very less involved with the newcomers of late. what's the point? unless he's got food, then the pirate isn't too keen on discussion. )

[cgrades]

Really? Seems everyone's right cheery here. Warm welcome, great banquet, the like.

[ Because if they're going to be playing the game of sarcasm, Charlie knows it just as well. He smiles falsely to the man, wholly unimpressed. ]

What is this place? How long have you been here, then? You certainly seem as though you're wholly unimpressed by it all now.

[villainously]

Sorry, the welcoming committee must have slept in. ( Hook is definitely not volunteering to be that, for a pissy newcomer. he frowns more at the fire than he bothers to pay attention to the questions. what is this place. how long you been. blah blah blah. it's true, he's not impressed, and why the bloody hell is this fire smoking so?

he frowns at it, crossing his arms, wincing because that stings, and uncrossing them again. ) It's a hotel of some sort. And three months, hard to keep proper track but about that. ( gods, has it been four? he's going to stop thinking about this. )

[cgrades]

Delightful. So they left you to the job, then? Unfortunate.

[ The smoke is concerning in some respects, but being in a strange new place he can't get out of? Even more disconcerting. ] Three months? And no one's found a way out? Now that is great.

116.

[lesson]

( eggsy's walking with a spring in his step — or as close to one as he can get, still being half starved and quite put off by the casuality his superiors are affecting in regards to harry's perpetual shakiness — because, oh what a delightful day in hell. really, regardless of surroundings, it's kind of hard to not be a little excited when imminent death is staved off by halfthawed chicken nuggets and cake. both of which he's obtained miniscule amounts of, but just enough to overrun his deprived digestive system with sugar and protien.

maybe this is the start of things looking up, yeah? food, then harry'd be better, then they'd kick in the teeth of whoever locked them here, then go home!

yes, things could definately be turning around for the better.

or. like. not.

because you don't spend a rough six months in the same dorm as a person and not come to recognize every single detail — from their gait coming down a hall to their farts — of their presence. including voice. so when eggsy passes a door left open a crack and hears a rather put out swear, he comes to a grinding halt. backtracks, with significantly less skip, to room 116 and without much preamble, pushes open the door. no, he doesn't knock. )

Oh, what the fuck. ( which is more at the hotel (for bringing charlie) than charlie himself. but eggsy does look like he's just been sucking on some rather sour lemons. )

[cgrades]

[ It's true that living with someone for any amount of time makes you more and more sensitive to their habits, their gait, their voices -- and Charlie knows that voice, that accent too well. He rises from his place on the bed and opens the door, something dark across his face.

So, was all of this some Kingsman punishment or prank? ]

Eggy. How nice to see you.

[ It takes a lot of restraint not to shove the guy away from his room. ]

[lesson]

( if only it were that simple. but not even kingsman have the tech to bring harry back, and eggsy also doubts their establishment could keep merlin anywhere he didn't want to be. yet they'd been here for months. and now, welp, so was he.

it takes just about as much restraint not to punch charlie in the fucking nose — again — on principal, and eggsy sneers viciously but keeps his hands to himself; he's smart enough to know that half starved and lightheaded, he wasn't any comparison for someone fresh from training and well fed. ) Nice ain't the word I'd use. ( decking is off the table but shouldering his way into charlie's room and all but slamming the door behind him is the only logical recourse of action, naturally. and once the door is closed, he huffs, grits his teeth, and raises his chin as if daring the other man to tell him off. )

I need to talk to you. Sit down.

[cgrades]

Well, you're a delight as always, Eggy.

[ Because it means they're in nothing but trouble if a place like this has them both trapped here. Kingsman agents (well, at least one) with no way out, could never be a good thing. ]

I'm fine standing, thanks. [ The height makes him feel powerful, after all, or at least gives him the illusion of it. Especially when he knows that Eggsy advanced and he didn't -- that Eggsy may well have secured his position while Charlie, of the finest breeding and training, did not. His lips twist into a sour frown. ] So get on with it, I really am rather tired, and I think I could sleep much better with the door locked and you on the other side of it.

yeah im doubletapping, i do what i want

[skaikru]

( where as, on the complete opposite end of the spectrum, clarke knocks.

lightly. so lightly she thinks there's a good chance the occupant of room 116 didn't hear her, so she takes it upon herself to slowly, cautiously push the door open — sure to make the hinges squeak to announce her presence. then she dawdles in the doorway, self appointed hotel doctor and guest catloguer, and hesitant to engage any new arrivals without the tablet and a test post by way of personal buffer. but once upon a time, before she let her ghosts get to her, she'd been quite good with people.

quite good at helping people.

so, rather heistantly. ) Hi. ( cue the awkward pause and hard swallow. ) Are you alright?

[cgrades]

[ He doesn't hear the knock, and instead can only hear the thrum of his pulse in his ears. At least, until she speaks. His head lifts up, but other than that, his expression and body language are easy, relaxed. His spy training hasn't left him, of course -- and he wouldn't show the amount of anxiety and wariness he's actually feeling inside. ]

Hello. [ Everyone's a stranger here, and everything is dangerous. He trusts nothing, yet. ] Yeah, I'm fine, thanks, a bit put out by the fact that there are no doors out, but I suspect that everyone is.

[skaikru]

I would say it gets easier but...

( everything still sucks; in fact, it gets worse, and harder because first you're scared and then you're hungry. they might not be being hunted or harvested here, but that sort of feels like it's going to be next. it's no kinder a reason they could have been dragged here than to create some sort of personalized army or create a master race, and the fact the higher powers at play here keep disposing of the old they don't seem to like anymore and bringing in new, fresh faces makes her...

really sad.

but clarke tries her best to smile anyway. he seems relaxed, and she tries to mimic that posture. but there's something in the slope of her shoulders that speaks volumes about how she tries to carry as much weight as humanly possible. )

It really doesn't. I won't lie to you. I've been hear since the beginning, and it's — ( she skipped a step. ) I'm Clarke.

[cgrades]

This isn't difficult -- I've been in far more dangerous situations, quite honestly.

[ Jumping out of planes with rubbish parachutes, tied down to train tracks, a myriad of other ridiculous Kingsman scenarios. He's also managed to live through the scrutiny of his father. That's an Olympic feat in and of itself. ]

Charlie. [ It's absent minded, the way he juts his chin out, tilts it up slightly as he says his name -- a sort of pride that has been burned into his bones. He offers out his hand to her. ] The rooms aren't bugged, at least nothing I've found, but then that says little for the rest of this place. Amazing that everyone's so calm, really -- no one's looking for a way out. A bit ridiculous, really.

116

[pajarita]

[Well, it's on her floor, what do you expect? For her not to pass by the open door? It could be someone she knows. Or - it could just be a room that looks like a hurricane went through it.

She spots the guy looking like he's just lost all the lotteries sitting on the bed, and knocks.]

You missed a spot.

[cgrades]

[ He'd meant to shut the door, but he was in a rush, in a pure state of panic, as if the room hadn't said that. He looks up from his place on the bed, a wry, sickly-sweet smile on his face. ]

Oh? Did I? A shame. Thank you.

[ He isn't in a playful mood, that's for sure. ]

[pajarita]

There's no bug. [She's just guessing here. Who knows, maybe he's just a messy sleeper. She shrugs after the offered, curt explanation.] No cams either.

[cgrades]

I noticed.

[ He gestures wryly to the room he's recently upended to try and find any sign of tech. ]

Just these tablets, which could be the problem in and of themselves. Likely monitoring through it's software. I understand there are people controlling this place, but they're never seen. Peculiar.

lobby;

[thatimpossiblegirl]

[Clara isn't as keen to greet the new arrivals this time around. She hasn't seen The Doctor in a while now. Hasn't seen Jack either. She's worried. But none of that's obvious to anyone who doesn't really know her, and when she does decide to go out and talk to others it's with a smile. Ignore whatever's hurting, squash it down and pretend nothing's wrong. Everything's fine.]

Haven't been here long, have you? Some of the doors are unlocked.

[Okay, it's one door, if you're talking about exits, but it's technically the only exit that exists, so her point stands.]

[cgrades]

No, I've just arrived.

[ Because he looks like he belongs in a place like this, right? Hilarious. Charlie runs a hand over his face and looks around the room with a touch too much smoke in it. ]

Room doors unlock, the ball room is open and the courtyard is open. Those are our only doors, only one out, and even that doesn't get us far.

[ He frowns. ] So, unless you know any other doors...

[thatimpossiblegirl]

[He's charming, isn't he? She crosses her arms, but doesn't really seem too bothered.]

I think that about covers it. Better than it was.

[There do seem to be small improvements with each new group of arrivals. Who knows, maybe if they wait around long enough an actual exit will turn up. She has her doubts though.]

You get used to it.

[Kind of.]