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

[youcantransform]

Needless to say, he's got nothing but admiration for a woman with an assertive handshake. She immediately strikes him as someone for whom he needs pull no punches, so he doesn't bother.

"To no small degree. Simply put, we've been trapped and tormented since arriving here, but we've also been provided for. One generous, if monotonous meal a day, storage facilities - housekeeping services," he adds, still rather incredulous about that though he's frankly pleased not to be laundering his own clothes in his bathroom sink.

"Two and a half weeks ago, that food stopped coming. We do seem to have been subsisting on what some managed to stockpile beforehand, but that won't last forever."

[deadlystar]

Gamora gets up, still holding the towel just for the sake of having something in her hands, and walks over to look over his shoulder at a slight distance. When Sam opens the case and says it's 'creepy', that must mean he recognizes some of the things inside.

"Maybe they wanted you to be comfortable here." Or something like that. Really, there's no way of knowing what their captors are thinking. The steak is an oddity among a book and some clothes. "Given what little food I've seen here, you might want to preserve that before it goes bad."

[ukase]

He hadn't been outside in a courtyard, but he had noticed how his initial question went ignored. He filed that away for later consideration as he looked about the lobby, which was about as welcoming as a cheap Taiwanese brothel house. Of course, the rain wasn't so much of a problem by his measure; it was inconvenient and often made life briefly miserable but oh well. "I take it we don't get regular weather reports beyond looking out the window then?"

Well, who wanted their place to burn down? What if he had been cooking or something. "No, some jobs you just have to do yourself. No other way to know it's been done right."

[unpurify]

He surveys the pinkish steak dubiously. Right now he doesn't feel capable of keeping down anything, much less a hunk of raw meat. Thanks, hotel. Sam is so very grateful.

"Maybe." The tablet is nestled in among the rest of the necessities, and it's not hard to figure out where to press to get it to whirr to life. "Guess that makes this the 'communication device'."

Which raises all sorts of new questions to go with the plethora Sam already has. It's unnerving, to see parts of his life laid out in a suitcase, compartmentalized into an anonymous room, presumably so he could wake up here and...what? Was he sent here with any sort of purpose in mind? "Wish someone could tell me who 'they' actually are."

[una_persson]

She takes in this news calmly enough; she wonders briefly if this could be a menagerie at the End of Time—but while those people are capricious and silly, they are not cruel in this way, and even the most distracted of them would never starve the lost travellers under their care, and would have at least offered some explanation. No, this is something else,.

"Two and a half weeks," she echoes, frowning. Not good. If it goes on for much longer, people will start getting very ill, and longer than that— "That's damned unsporting of our hosts," she says, with that kind of false humour that acknowledges its own inappropriateness. "Who I gather from your earlier comments are not inclined to mix and mingle with the guests."

[ourlastbesthope]

He stared at them, primal hunger flashing in his eyes. He wanted to rip them from her hands, but he restrained himself, holding out a shaking hand instead. "There's someone here who is...pregnant, I suppose. She might need something, if you come across her." He rubbed his forehead. "Thank you." A pause. "Who are you?"

[ukase]

He was a little behind the times on certain events, especially that part of how he came to be here, why he was here, and how he didn't have any injures from his little party under the Triskelion. He felt a pressing need to know what was going on so he could get back to what was really important to him.

"Probably don't need to eat in Heaven either," he pointed out, since wasn't eating an inconvenience? Well, he might not have personally pissed with Fury, but then again, how many dead guys was he going to meet here anyway? "Nah, I follow protocol even with my paperwork. I'm a good boy."

[deadlystar]

Gamora was not feeling too good about all of this and the whole thing made her nervous. What made her more nervous were the sounds of footsteps running quickly down the stairs. She took a couple steps back and waited with her suitcase in hand because it may be a suitcase, but it would hurt plenty if she swung it at someone's head.

Improvising was something she could do in a bizarre situation like this one.

However, the man who ran downstairs was not coming at her, but going for the front desk, instead. From the look of him, he was as baffled by all of this as she was, though she kept as calm an expression on as she could manage.

And then, he was staring. For... longer than one might consider polite. "Are you going to keep looking at me like that?"

[youcantransform]

Unsporting to let them slowly starve. He smiles grimly. Gallows humour already; she'll fit right in. Harry doesn't often make snap judgements but he finds he likes her immediately.

"Not at all. Their presence is felt rather than observed - laundry and so forth. There's a form of intranet here where our hosts seemed to appear once, briefly, with an apology for the inconvenience." He inclines his head. "Strangely it wasn't quite so well-received as they were hoping."

[deadlystar]

It's hard to miss it when he says the word 'dimensions' twice. Gamora shifts uneasily but then stops since even that is more than she wants to give away about how she's feeling.

"What makes you say it could be another dimension?" She hasn't seen evidence of that yet, and as much as she has experienced before, new dimensions is something even she hasn't dabbled in.

[una_persson]

She took a biscuit out of the tin and handed it to him before tucking the tin back into her bag, and nodded in acknowledgement of the comment about the pregnant woman (although the "I suppose" struck her as odd). "Una Persson," she said, offering him her hand. "Late of London, late twentieth century."

(Which was...the easiest way of putting it. Strictly speaking she'd been on the boat train from Paris to Calais, thence to the ferry and thence London by way of Dover, but that was unnecessary, she felt, to say nothing of the vagaries of Sir Seaton's usual London versus whatever this poor man might know.)

[una_persson]

She snorts, darkly amused. "I see. And no one has any idea who or what they are?" She nods toward the front door, which remains untried. "And what's out there? Beyond dismal weather?"

[deadlystar]

Gamora is on the ground catching her breath when he approaches. She didn't expect someone to come and see if she was alright. Especially since it's still raining. The whole thing is extremely dismal and now they're both getting wet.

There's a long pause as Gamora looks at the offered hand. There was a time not long ago when she would've told him to back away from her, good intentions or not, but things are different now. That's not to say she isn't cautious about the stranger. She does take the offered hand, but she has her second one free if she should need to jump into battle.

"I'm fine." A little sore, but that'll pass. "There's no exit door. I looked everywhere. How can a place not have a door?" Naturally, running up the side of a building was the next logical approach to leaving this place.

[youcantransform]

He glances the way she nods.

"Just a courtyard, I'm afraid. Walls that resist any attempts to be climbed, and some rather decrepid children's playground equipment. There's no door leading out of the hotel proper, nor any way to retrace the steps you took to get here, as best anyone can tell. As for the identity of our captors, you're quite right. Theories abound but nothing that can be proven."

Or that would help, especially, even if they were true.

[una_persson]

"Delightful." Though her expression and tone make it pretty clear that her feelings on the matter are exactly the opposite. "Something of a human-sized Skinner box, it sounds like. Putting an artificial stress on the environment—clever touch, that." She grimaces. "Well, I suppose I ought to find somewhere to put this," the bag of chicken nuggets, "before it completely thaws and goes off, oughtn't I? Especially since people are clearly going to need it." Something occurs to her. "How many of us are there?"

[starspangled]

[He wishes he had more to tell her. The simplicity of it all - the staff won't talk, the doors won't open, the walls are impenetrable - none of it makes sense. But it is what is, and Steve's determined to make the best of it until they manage to come up with some actual answers.]

Did all this come in your suitcase?

[He glances at the doll, the motorcycle, all the little things that personalize her room. Steve's torn between telling her to hide the peanut butter and asking for some when she presents him with his "gifts".

He snorts softly and pulls the hat on, unfolding the glasses next.]

My secret disguise. Now I'll find some answers.

Brock, you're in so much trouble when Tasha finds out about this! :| (But I love it!)

[bondedgryphon]

You would not be the first to find enjoyment in tormenting her, Brock, and you'd possibly not be the last. Zhaneel didn't manage confrontation well because she'd been made to believe from an early age that she wasn't worth anything and that she deserved to be treated as such. Was it an enjoyable way to live life? God, no, she hated it as much as she hated herself; but she didn't know how to stop it.

But he was right in several regards... she would tell him anything she could about this place, but not because he intimidated the fuck out of her... because she couldn't imagine why not to tell him what she knew. She nods her head, glancing briefly at him through the fall of her hair. When he catches those golden eyes, there is any degree of fear there... like a caged bird frantic for escape.

"Yes, it stopped... the food had been showing up without problem and a few weeks ago it just stopped. The water is continuously available, but no food."

Her brows knit together slightly at his next words. "I don't... I don't know those places... But some of the others have claimed to see ghosts here." She swallows, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. "I... I did not experience it, but there were several that did."

[triplett]

She must have missed his mad dash downstairs and looking like a lost puppy once down at the lobby. Not that he had known anything she was thinking. Trip narrowed down what Cashmere was looking at before she got around to asking about food. "If you can call some bland crackers food, yeah."

He didn't miss what she uttered of people disappearing and her use of 'we' but she gave him insight on something that proved this wasn't a wayward dream. "Want some?" Trip offered and made it clear she was allowed in. "My friends call me Trip." He felt the need to be friendlier with how hesitant she appeared. Hydra wouldn't want to eat anything he had. In fact, only until the moment he attempted to share did it occur to him about questioning the package.

"Most the stuff in the suitcase mine. I can't say I've ever packed crackers before though."

[notafraidofyou]

"Eeeh." He holds a hand up and wiggles it a little from side to side. He doesn't exactly want to be the guy that says 'welcome to the hotel at the end of the universe and by the way we're all sort of starving right now,' but. Maybe that's not a surprise that should wait too long either.

"The zookeepers have kind of forgotten to feed the exhibits for a little while."

[una_persson]

Fortunately (perhaps) for him, she's already gotten that briefing, in pieces and parts. She nods. "Over a fortnight, so I hear."

[triplett]

She spoke! English, at that.

Trip immediately shook the dumbfounded face for one of embarrassment. "No. Sorry. I just... I'm really sorry." His words came rapidly with genuine remorse. "I've never seen anyone like you before but that's no excuse." He decided to approach rather than look discriminate.

However, he didn't rush and encroach her space in case she didn't want anything to do with him. She looked put off (rightfully so) but also there was a hint of being as lost as he was given her standing and holding onto a suitcase.

"You just get here too?" he asked with a nod toward her suitcase. Or maybe she was checking out. He'd take any insight at this point.

[notafraidofyou]

Her acknowledgement actually makes him laugh a little--he's relieved to not be the first one to say anything. "Glad not to be the first bearer of the bad news--I think. But yeah, that sounds about right. Normally breakfast turns up like clockwork every morning over there--" He nods to the empty dining area. "But it's been a little while since we've had lukewarm scrambled eggs to complain over."

[youcantransform]

"A few dozen, at least - I'm afraid there's not been much of an official headcount to speak of, and it's apparent that some residents have been disappearing without trace."

Those people, he can only hope have simply returned home to their own worlds, their own lives. He glances at the bag in her hand.

"There'll be a fridge in your room - you ought to have been provided with a key?"

[deadlystar]

It's funny how so many other races speak English, isn't it? Best not to dwell on that. Gamora can tell that he is at least sincere when he apologizes. She's just getting a little tired of being stared at, but she hopes that will pass eventually. Or she'll get out of here.

"It's alright." Apology accepted. He doesn't mind that he approaches, so long as he doesn't get too close. At the question, she looked down at her own suitcase and nodded. "Yes, though I'm not sure how." He doesn't look like he knows how he got here, either.

"I just... woke up here. Most people here appear to be from Earth." At least they look it.

[deadlystar]

Gamora had assumed Sam wouldn't eat the meat raw, but what does she know? Quill talks about all kinds of weird Terran foods. He spent twenty minutes trying to tell her the difference between a Twinkie and a Hoho, and she still doesn't know what the hell he was talking about. Sam might not think much of the meat now, but a week from now he might really wish he had that steak.

"So far I haven't met anyone who knows who brought us here." It hasn't even been a full day, but she's already feeling anxious. "We should keep in contact and share any information we discover." If he's agreeable to that, anyway.