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

[bettercallit]

Ah. [ He knows enough about it from Skye, and later Coulson, even if he's not pieced everything together quite yet. ] The last time I saw you, we were taking care of the Chitauri.

[ourlastbesthope]

"I'm not sure if that makes them lucky or not," he told her. He didn't think it was a good thing to have others. But that might have been because he wouldn't be able to handle having anyone from the ship around. It would have been too much.

[bettercallit]

He has every intention of declining yet again, but it's the smile that gets him in the end, the hope that lies behind it, and he sighs, shaking his head a little with amusement. He reaches out and relieves him of them, his stomach grumbling at the close proximity of them alone.

"Thank you." He means it, and it earns him trust in return; he's not known for handing it it out willy-nilly, but with Coulson's praise and genuine team spirit, well, it's a struggle not to be swayed.

Following Trip's gaze, Clint huffs, and shrugs apologetically. "Been that way since I got here. Hasn't stopped since." He stares at it, as if transfixed, for a moment longer. "You seen the courtyard yet? It's hard not to appreciate the rain when you realise it's the only way to catch a breath in this place."

[una_persson]

"There's something to be said for familiarity," she said. "As long as it's the right kind. I suppose that's not guaranteed though, is it?" She laughed softly, not entirely without humour. "I can think of a few people I'd like to see very much, and a few who can stay where they are."

[ukase]

[She seemed to be warming up real well in the first two minutes, and he was looking forward to being noisy on the wall that they shared in the middle of the night.]

I do. I've got hyperopia, and I clearly left my glasses in another suitcase.

[triplett]

There's no need for a verbal response to Barton's word of thanks. Trip acknowledged him with a single nod before looking back out the window again. It was hard to think the rain was falling for a month straight and they weren't under a deluge. Then again, maybe they were just somewhere in the outskirts of Seattle.

He shook his head 'no' as a response and picks up the cider he'd previously made himself. "Tablets but no reception outside? Not even a news channel?" he tried to confirm with Clint. With word on his team, Trip decided to try and focus on where they were. It could be a test or something straight out of The Matrix. His head snapped up. "Your last memory before here isn't of dying, is it?" Poor Barton would be subjected to twenty questions around the new arrival.

George Kirk | switching to prose is fine if preferred! apologies also for the tl;dr intro

[daddykirk]

-------- >> ARRIVAL ;

[Hitting the deck more than knocks the breath from his lungs. The force of the landing from his previous, explosive expulsion from the captain's chair has his ears ringing, eyes watering. And when he takes a wheezing breath it's littered in dust, causing the man to weakly cough, if only because there's so little air in him as it is. Shaking arms and trembling legs push him off the floor, vision blurred as he tries to get his bearing in this darkness.

It's warm here—or at least warmer than the vacuum he was being pulled through moments ago—and it's off putting to his cold singed skin as he blinks and looks towards the light seeping in under the door before him. George blinks lethargically, brow knitted tightly together as his breathing regains and turns into shallow breath. Something creeps up his back, making the hairs on his nape stand on end and his stomach curl anxiously. When he looks over his shoulder George isn't sure what it is he sees but it's enough to frighten him further and bolt for the door.

Never has someone opened a door so quickly in their life, and on his way he stumbles out of the room via a suitcase. He barely registers that it's his, just sees G.S. KIRK, SR. labeled neatly on the handle and grabs for it before slamming the room closed and collapsing on the floor. Blond locks are disarray, limbs shudder and George heaves for air as he pushes himself back against the wall with a sharp grunt.

He's starting to feel it now, the aches and pains in his body; the lacerations and burns on his skin. Nothing's broken but he certainly feels and looks the part. His off-blue uniform, once pristine and sharp, is now bloodied and freckled with various sized burns along his shoulders and chest, dark pants ripped below his knee. George's face is no better, some gashes on his forehead deep, trickling red while smaller scrapes frame his cheeks, jaw and chin.

Though if someone's seen him then he's none the wiser, too preoccupied with his heart thundering in his ears and the welling in his chest and eyes that he's somehow conscious, at the thought that somewhere in the cosmos he's gone from his family—his family that might be dead.]

-------- >> MAIN LOBBY ;

[Someone hasn't gotten to their room just yet, though they are patched up now. Still in his admittedly tattered and slightly singed uniform, the lacerations on George's forehead are stitched up and some bandages are showing through the rips of his sleeves and lower half of his trousers. Partly slumped in a chair stuffed near a corner of the room—suitcase tucked neatly beside the chair—George sits with his head in a hand, staring with a seemingly blank stare to the floor before him.

He doesn't come across threatening despite his stillness and disposition, no; instead he looks haunted, beaten down and tired. Far away from the smoke not to be too bothered by it, George stifles the occasional cough, which is either followed by stiff repositioning, checking wounds or combing (also scuffed up) fingers through his hair. It's almost as if he wants to move but can't, and maybe his slight tremble has something to do with it.]

[a_chipped_cup]

"I'll ration it, I promise." She said, glancing back at him. "I just want to give a little of it to someone who needs it." The last thing she wants is to argue over a loaf of bread. Not when they were just reunited.

"I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not sure candy eggs is a good idea. We should save them for ourselves. It would be a good fall back for when the bread gets low."

[ourlastbesthope]

He didn't say anything to that. He would love to see one or two people again. But he didn't want to admit that the others could stay; they were dead, after all.

He stood up, a little shaky, and shivered once before looking to the door.

"Back inside?" he suggested. The crackling fire sounded like a wonderful way to end his excursion.

[una_persson]

"Yes; I rather think I've reached my daily quota of rainwater," she replied. She walked back to the door slightly ahead of him and held the door for him.

[ourlastbesthope]

Grateful for the gesture, he walked inside and headed straight for the fire.

"You...are taking this news well," he told her, finally remembering that he had a follower and waiting on her.

[avengeme]

Yep. Did I mention he's a scientist? [the similarities to the Hulk is astounding really] He has the whole crazy scientist thing down. And he hates SHIELD.

[magicsprice]

He merely nodded in response to the words. He had the fruit and he'd save part of the eggs back, though more for Belle's sake than his own. He'd make certain Belle got the lion's share of the food, she would need it more than him.

"Hopefully, they'll have ceased the starvation tactic by the time it's gone. Do you have any other questions? I'll try to answer them as best I can."

[a_chipped_cup]

"There's so many." She said, but not knowing where to begin. "Do you know anything else about this place? Why we're brought here? What they intend to do with us?" She comes to sit by him on the bed, looking at him carefully. "I just woke up on the floor, but I don't remember falling asleep or when I was taken. I was on my way to your shop."

As for him, she can tell he's not been eating. "You should have some of the bread." She told him, indicating she knew he wasn't doing as well.

[una_persson]

She took off her hat and shook the water off it, and brushed some water from her coat before shrugging it off and draping it over her arm. The occasional smokiness of the fire made her eyes water a little, but the warmth was pleasant after being outdoors.

"I am famous for my adaptability," she said, self-mocking. More soberly: "Not that this precludes me from eventually having a good cry as soon as the reality of the situation hits me later, but I generally try not to panic in strange situations."

[villainously]

"Not to dampen your spirits, but I didn't plan on being here this long either." There's no options and no answers, and he's been looking the entire time. So he never tried to scale the walls, he's pretty sure that's a bit of an inhuman feat as it is. She's green but she looks mostly human, makes him concerned she has jealousy issues more than that she's an alien. "It's not that easy to escape, or else I assure you this place would be quite empty."

[starspangled]

Really.

[He looks a little surprised at that, but not alarmed. Being alarmed by any weird thing here would mean a constant state of it.]

Yeah, that's the last place I was before I got here. [He takes a deep breath.] Which means that anyone on the outside might not even realize that we're gone.

[deadlystar]

She's sure others must've tried to escape, but she's not really typical where she comes from, so maybe she has a better chance at achieving it.

"Well, what have you tried?" If she knows what attempts at escape he or others have made so far, that might narrow down her options.

[villainously]

"I've searched for any doors leading out. There are a great many that can't be opened. The glass, the doors, they're not breakable, and trust if they were I would have gotten through. When you arrived, did you wake up in a dark room, went through a hallway to the stairs?"

That's how most of them entered, but he was just checking to be sure. It was not impossible the process would be different with a new set of guests.

[dislocked]

[ She recognizes him, and he knows it. He's learned to read faces, and he's profoundly certain that her reaction is at least semi-deliberate. Bucky glances at the cake, and thinks of a certain idiot somewhere in the hotel giving away even his own rations for the good of people he doesn't know.

(Steve likes chocolate, in whatever form it comes in.)

But all the same, Bucky is wary, hyper-vigilant, tension written in the line of broad shoulders. This man is not the footnote in history, not the face plastered on exhibits, carefully airbrushed and summarized in one neat little paragraph that gets as much wrong as it does right.

He stays remarkably still, expression unreadable. ] Who are you?

[ And he's not just asking about her name. ]

[bettercallit]

"Yeah," he confirmed, matter-of-fact, but he was still as frustrated with the situation as the new arrivals, if not more so with the lack of any positive developments. "Internal connection only. The network is hackable between devices if you have the know-how, but that's as good as it gets."

He offered a small, sad smile at the last question and looked back to the window, not sure he wanted to read too deep into it. "No. New York was my last memory." It had been bad enough dealing with the wake of the alien attack on the city, but to then be trapped here with little to occupy his mind with and nothing to do but be dragged back into the memories he would happily leave behind. Still, if he was to take from the question what he suspected, then he had it lucky. "After the invasion." He trusted Thor to have dealt with Loki, but there were others out there on top of enemies SHIELD had gained over the years. It was easier to focus on the people it wasn't, people on the inside, and who could and couldn't be trusted.

[deadlystar]

She blinks a few times, recognizing what he says as true. "Yes. But when I went back later, that place was gone. The hallway wasn't there anymore." And now that he mentions it, she hasn't tried opening every door. Not yet. Though many belong to other 'guests' and they probably won't like it if she tries barging into their rooms.

"Those locked doors.. we must get inside. There could be something there we need to escape." A control room, or maybe the very people who are holding them here.

[vdova]

But Steve knows about the fall of Hydra, too. The last thing he remembers is the last thing I remember. [ She crinkles her brow in annoyance, glancing towards the ground in thought, and she says this next part almost as an aside. ] The ability to pull us through time and space.

[ She looks back up at him again. ] Think it's the tesseract? Thor may have taken it back to Asgard, but considering what happened in London, I don't think it's exactly safe there.

[vdova]

[ Natasha nods, snorting a bit. ] Stark would be peeing himself if he was here, probably. Were you able to set up a secure network for our use? Or does it lock you out of that?

[ She knows what the answer probably is, but it doesn't hurt to try. Natasha wants to exhaust all possibilities before coming to the conclusion that there really is nothing they can do. ] If we can at least set up some form of encryption that everyone in SHIELD can use, we can keep Ward and anyone else from Hydra who might show up here out of our business. We may all be trapped here, but Hydra isn't trustworthy.

[bettercallit]

[ He listens quietly, watching as she processes the information, and waiting her out until she's more or less where he's been since he got here. ]

It's a possibility. And it's also the best I've come up with so far. [ Still pretty fresh from the Loki ordeal, it's been playing at the forefront of his mind as he's worked his way through potential explanations. ] There's also the HYDRA angle. It's a popular one. [ He knows only what he's been told, but he's guessing there's no telling what they've had their hands on over the years, and-- ] Wait, what happened in London?