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

[larker]

"Amazing isn't it? That this place manages to snag people from all over the place, including times. That is a special brand of power right there. I'll make it easy for you, Samsquatch. No-one knows who's done it or why. No ransom notes or anything. Just a somewhat comfortable bed in a run down motel with no exit."

The rest of it can wait, Gabriel isn't going to go into detail on how they seem to be intent on killing their guests off slowly through starvation, or how they held an easter egg hunt and made some of the eggs into shrapnel bombs so that no-one knew until they exploded. That's overkill on the information payload, and from the looks of the younger Winchester he's a few minutes overdue on passing out. Timelines are a hard thing to wrap a mind around anyway. The fact the Sam mentions he jumped right into Hell doesn't go unnoticed either. They could have just shoved Nick in there and it would have worked. Something else had come up that no-one had foreseen, or some bullshit. Prophecies had a habit of changing themselves for self fulfillment.

"Good to know Luci got shoved away then. Let me tell you, last time I was stuck in a hotel it didn't work out so hot for me. C'mon, I'll at least make sure you get up those stairs. I don't want you falling over and squashing some poor bastard under that freakishly giant frame of yours. Don't get used to this though, I'm just way too bored and this is entertaining."

[unpurify]

Oh, Sam remembers too well the last time they got stuck in a hotel. Granted, so he'll begrudgingly admit that he and Dean still owe the archangel for getting them out of that one. And for giving them the vital clue that actually would stop the Apocalypse.

So on top of hotels, they're dealing with warping in space and time, and not even Archangel Gabriel is apparently equipped to deal with it. That leaves Sam with less-than-optimistic chances of getting out of here right away so he can fix what he and Dean - and, probably, Cas - just irreparably broke.

"Gee," he says, the word a slow, skeptical pull, "thanks."

First step's always the hardest. Sam sets his jaw and doesn't bother to wait for any kind of angelic escort, but simply snatches the handle of his suitcase with more dexterity than he feels he can adequately be displaying at this point, and starts hauling ass upstairs. The other hand grabs at the wall for support at once because it needs to, because that sudden maneuver nearly sent him pitching onto the floor.

[larker]

"Well let's just say I'm closest to you, and it wouldn't end very well for you if you tried to flatten me." Truth, Gabriel did not intend to die for a Winchester again, albeit in a roundabout way. The archangel watches shrewdly as Sam grabs his suitcase and takes the stairs. There's a wobble there and Gabriel's hands are going up, but it seems Sam has found the wall again to help him stay upright. Typical Winchester, wouldn't ask for help even if they were set on fire and burning. And so Gabriel simply follows, hands in pockets and looking to the world as if there was nothing abnormal about this whatsoever.

"So you didn't say exactly what was wrong with you. What is that, man flu? Hunter flu? Or did you go sticking your head in something you shouldn't have?" It's easy to tell how bored Gabriel must have been considering he's following and asking questions like it was no big deal. Normally the archangel was the one who was hard to pin down, but today it seems like the being is just simply relieved that there's someone around to talk at. Sam gets bonus points for being someone who would get the references, as there is nothing worse than making a great comment and getting a blank stare for it.

[unpurify]

"I told you," Sam grits out between clenched teeth. First floor is nowhere near as bad as it could have been, but he's still holding onto that irrational, burning resentment for all things hotel-related. It's helping him deal. "Trials to close the Gates of Hell. This was one of the - side-effects, I guess, I dunno. Not really your average bug." Because that's pretty consistent with Winchester-level luck.

Far from a blank stare, he shoots Gabriel a pointed, sidelong glower. "Don't suppose you could use any of that angel juice and help with that, huh?"

[larker]

"Nice, you're allergic to Hell. Well done." Gabriel can't help the grin that time, not bothering to keep the amusement about of his voice when he says it. Anyone that close to hell would have more than what Sam is, and Gabriel knows the Winchester should count his dammed lucky stars or whatever it is hunters use to bless themselves with. Was it Diana? Gabriel really couldn't remember or be bothered to.

Oh. Now angel juice was a whole problem Gabriel doesn't want to touch right now. It's a long conversation and in all fairness he simply just doesn't want to admit it either, especially to Sam. They may have parted on okayish terms but Gabriel knows that he's screwed the Winchesters over properly before now, and no way will he point out he has weak spots now.

"I could. But why should I? You'll get better on your own in a day or two, considering it a lesson learned for touching shit you shouldn't have."

[unpurify]

"We were trying to help, jackass." He stops, partly because he has to and partly because he's getting a sick, twisting sensation of vertigo boiling in his gut and partly because he's pissed. "Close the Gates of Hell, cut demons off from the rest of the world. Forever. And if it weren't for the angels, for Cas - "

Shit. No. He breaks off and keeps stumping determinedly upward. He's not about to blame Cas for whatever the hell that was with the angels, though Dean seemed ready and raring to. He's not clear on what went down - he just knows that instead of closing Hell down for business, permanently, humanity got the world's worst wake-up call in the form of falling angels, wings turned to fiery streaks in the sky.

Sam can't tell if he's shivering from the memory, or because of the fever, or because he's really damn cold. It doesn't really matter.

[larker]

People trying to help always did more harm than good. Winchesters were always trying to help and screwing things up. It was in the laws of nature, and if they had avoided the apocalypse Gabriel can see it all too clearly. The natural order was revolting against the pair of them or something ridiculous like that; Gabriel can't be sure on it, he's not around to see it. A shame, he would have loved to be making all those Dick jokes.

Ears perk at the mention of Cas, but with the mood Sam is in Gabriel knows that he won't get much info out of the hunter. Best to store it away for future gossip times and to just ask it when the other isn't prepared. Getting the details about the gates of Hell is more than Gabriel has expected already.

"You can't go screwing it up like that, kid. You close the gates of Hell then Heaven messes up. It's a balancing act and when you close Hell off completely it tilts and go crazy. Or something, can't say I'm an expert on that one. That's above even my paygrade." Gabriel squints when Sam shivers, reaching out and giving Sam a small, light shove in the middle of his back. "Don't go freaking out on me. I'm not nice enough to make sure you get through it. I'll leave you on the floor and go back to my own room."

[unpurify]

The fact that they're not on the same floor is probably the best news Sam's gotten all day. His shoulders creep to his ears at the archangel's touch, both alarmed and unnerved. The whole easygoing composure is nothing new, but the fever's either made Sam crankier or lowered his tolerance for bullshit. Or both.

"We didn't know it would end the way it did," he mutters. The resentment fades to accommodate the defeated slope of regret in his shoulders as they slump again.

He nearly trips over the final step and looking down the long, cheerless hall where his room is evidently located isn't doing miracles for the building pressure in his temples, but he made it. Look, Ma, no fainting.

"So glad we're stuck in the same building." The words were probably meant to have some kind of loaded sting, but they just come out as exhausted and wrung out as Sam feels. "Have I mentioned that?"

[larker]

Gabriel rolls his eyes and huffs quietly. He really shouldn't be feeling bad for Sam, the guy was an idiot just like his idiot brother. But at the end of it all the pair of them were simply trying to save the world from whatever, and at the same time they did try to stick it to the system and that's something Gabriel can get behind.

"You two never do know how it ends, and you still go ahead and do it anyway. Don't feel bad on that though, better to do that instead of doing nothing. Or something. Not enough Oprah to give advice like this." Gabriel peers down the hallway, noting how exactly the same it looks as his own. Cookie cutter hotels, they were such grand things. At least the decor was a dull color and not the bright garish colors that seemed to happen when Gabriel was left to think up the hotel walls.

The being stuck comment comes across as flat, almost as if the hunter is trying too hard to have something that could be considered normal. Well, if the kid wanted to be making comments like that, Gabriel would be happy to oblige, slipping back into his devil-may-care attitude with complete ease.

"Oh, say it again Sammy, you know I love it when you get all sarcastic like that."

[unpurify]

He sets the suitcase down again so he can lean against the wall for a breather, but one eye cracks open to stare at the archangel in mingled confusion and disbelief. It's the same oddly reassuring, 'humans are flawed' sentiment he broke out when going toe-to-toe with Lucifer, thrown down with the same casual lack of fanfare that makes it sound almost sincere.

'Sincere' is not the first thing that comes to Sam's head when he thinks of Gabriel.

Still, he thinks wryly, if he's stuck in a shady-as-fuck hotel with no way out, at least he has a vaguely familiar face trapped here with him. It's not his first choice of company, sure, but as long as he doesn't swing back to his routine of dicking around, the most they'll have to get on each other's cases about is whatever apparent philosophical disagreement Gabriel has to people trying to close the literal Gates of Hell.

"You're still kind of a dick." Not all that creative, but Sam's too tired to think of anything else. "Just don't pull anymore infinite Tuesdays, and we'll be good."

[larker]

Still kind of a dick? No more infinite Tuesdays? Gabriel is already wrinkling his nose at that. It's nice to have a familiar face, and maybe a bit of sentiment slipped, but that's all Sam will get. It's a given that Gabriel will go back to being an asshole at any given moment and he's already heading that way as is.

"No more Mystery Spot? No deal. I'll do what I want, thanks, I don't need you to preach to me what I can and can't do." And just for good measure that will be graced with the most unimpressed look, one that promises Gabriel shall do what he wants and when he wants. "Just because you beat the system doesn't mean you have any kind of authority. You should be glad I didn't just push you down the stairs when you were busy having cold sweats over cold calling at Hell's door."

[unpurify]

A derisive, darkly amused sound escapes Sam as he pushes away from the wall, collecting his suitcase.

"Yeah, I've really missed this," he tosses the words halfheartedly over his shoulder, still leaning heavily on the wall as he makes his inching, pathetic progress down the hall. There's no way he can keep up with Gabriel's familiar conversational jabs, that flow of cut and riposte, not when he looks and feels practically dead on his feet. "I've missed the casually destructive banter, you know. Really puts everything into perspective."

[larker]

"Of course you did, but that's only because you can't speak any other language than destructive." Maybe it's a bit harsh, but it seemed like being nice wasn't exactly getting Sam to his room any faster. Gabriel moves forwards and turns, walking backwards down the hallway as he talks to the hunter. The hallway was so cookie cutter that the chances of falling over something was minimal, if not non existent.

"No idea what you're going to do with yourself here, kiddo. There's no ghouls and ghosts here for you to chase, and your bro ain't here either. I'm not even sure if you'll be thrilled to bits at that or flat out bored, though."

[unpurify]

"Yeah?" He half-turns, unable to resist one last snipe. "And what about you? What's an archangel - oh, I'm sorry." He raises a hand in a mocking, sweeping gesture. " - Trickster - gonna do here, exactly? Seeing as you're just as stuck as the rest of us."

It occurs to him, a bit late, that there's a good chance that Sam's just digging himself into the hole of being Gabriel's most convenient target again, but he's having difficulties walking in a straight damn line down a hallway and his head is pounding, and he just can't really bring himself to care right now. It's not like Dean is here - yet, because Sam doubts Dean'll be one to let this whole hotel thing stand for long - so Sam's confident that he can shoulder whatever Gabriel throws at him, however unpleasant. He already looks pretty well dead on his feet, anyway.

[larker]

That comment gets a smirk. In theory Gabriel can't do shit except throw a few things around with his mind. The hotel has cut his powers and the archangel knows it. Sam does not know it though, and Gabriel doesn't intend on telling the kid.

"Oh I'm sure I'll find something. Or something might turn up. You never know." The shorter male keeps the grin on his face as he looks to the side, quickly counting the numbers on the doors as they make their way slowly past them. In Gabriel's mind this whole thing had happened faster. It would have happened faster if he could just snap his fingers and be done with it. Damn, back to basics sucked.

"Yours is about four doors down if you think you can actually get that far."

[unpurify]

"Thanks for the tip," he says, easy on the genuine gratitude and heavy on the sarcasm, and wrenches himself back around to stump solidly ahead, en route to the hotel room of his very own. So Gabriel's here; well, great. He'll burn that bridge when he comes to it.

Right now he is just so sick of being something of a cosmic joke.