checkingout | I USED TO DREAM THAT I WOULD MEET A PRINCE

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I USED TO DREAM THAT I WOULD MEET A PRINCE

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?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

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.

Fancy yourself a Sherlock Holmes, then?

[ Oh he did not like these sort of know-it-all types. ] Oh, it was implied in your rather... indirect criticism. But yes, I understand that world domination is a fascinating topic, though admittedly only sociopaths or war-mongers with political power seem to have any keen interest in such things. Should I put out a survey so I know which category you fall into?

[ Well, if he liked a little bite, Charlie's certainly a good guy to talk to. ] Hide and seek in an old, disturbing hotel? I think I'll pass, thanks. Especially if you do turn up to be in one of the aforementioned categories. Somehow, I don't think you'd classify as "none of the above."

Oh no, I could never pretend to be that mental.

[The more they exchanged words, the more he was enjoying himself. This was probably the best thing since he had almost executed the launch technician.] There's no need for a survey, Prince Charming. I'm both a sociopath and a war-monger. I hope that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

[It seemed that they weren't playing hide 'n seek then, not that it was worthwhile to hang this guy up by the drapes and see what kind of noises he would make. That's just rude coming into this very strange situation. He didn't need to blow off steam that badly.] You sure you don't want to play a game with me? I enjoy winning no matter what.

[ Prince Charming? Rumblow is going to get a very, very skeptical look. ] Well, at least you're honest with yourself, I suppose. Though honesty is rarely ever the best option in your case.

[ Folding arms over his chest, Charlie raises a brow. ] Who's to say you'd win? I doubt you would, though you can certainly lie to yourself if you need to. I'm not going to stop you.

How so? Honesty is always the best policy, unless it creates friction in one's agenda or survival. [See, he was very honest! Hell, he was more honest with this little shit than he had been since the rise of HYDRA from the shadows. That hadn't been long, but it sure had been great to be free for an hour or so.

Awww, this guy thought he was an unskilled buffoon, huh? That was never a good stance to take until one had successfully probed the validity. It was a good way to get humiliated.] Ah well, I won't force you to play. Survival is hard for some.

Not sure that admitting ones own sociopathic nature is always the best idea when meeting new people.

[ But somewhere in Rumlow's statement he feels a challenge. It's a weakness, really, and he frowns, pushing away from his place against the wall. ]

For some, but I get by well enough on my own. Name your terms.

I don't see you backing away, which means you either don't believe me or you don't care. I wonder which it is?

[He smirked when the challenge was met and accepted, though what kind of game were they really playing just recently being put here? The situation wasn't the best to start playing, though survival might be in the cards regardless.]

Well, I guess we should decide who is going to be hiding and who is going to be seeking. Your choices are either thumb-war or rock, paper, scissors in deciding that.

Oh, I believe you, I've just met far worse than you.

[ He grew up in the silver spoon society -- there are plenty of nut jobs in the close inner circles of London society. He's surprised there aren't more, honestly. ]

Rock, paper, scissors. I'd like to keep my thumb in tact, thanks. [ Charlie's sure this is all some terrible prank -- a terrible joke, really, for an attempt at humiliation. But if playing a child's game would get him out of here, then he would. If it didn't? Well. ] This is all so diplomatic for a primary school game. Really, is all of this necessary?

Have you?

[It was good to know that he had an opportunity to slip under the radar then because this kid was giving him so much wiggle room. There might even be an opportunity to show the guy on the right path in order to help him improve their situation.

He shrugged his shoulders because he didn't care about either game. It was all pretty much a waste of time anyway.]

Never forget child games. They come in handy in all situations. [He held out his left hand in a fist.] Winner gets to hide.

Yes, actually. But you're pretty high on the list. Well done.

[ Charlie looks at the man with some level of skepticism, because all of this is giving him red flags to the moon and back, but being in a creepy, old hotel will do that. ]

Right, then. Lets get on with it. [ He holds out his own fist, doing the appropriate hand motions as they begin the quick game. ] Rock, paper...

Your list must be pretty shitty if I've made it that far in such a short time. You don't even know what I can do after all.

[He actually let this kid set the pace of their little game, but his eyes certainly weren't on their rising and falling fists. No, he was studying the other man's expression as if that might determine what of the three his new little friend was going to choose.

At the word on 'scissors', he jabbed out his pinky finger at the same time that his left foot lifted out in an attempt to catch the back of this kid's knee in a kick.]

I don't, but I can take a guess.

[ Charlie really should have seen it coming long before it does -- the way the man watches his face, the too-easy tone of all of this. He dodges the hand, leaning out of the way fast enough, but it leaves him in a precarious position with the kick -- the blow finding its mark, sending him down to his knees, a sharp pain in his leg.

That does stop him from pushing with his good leg to throw an elbow into the man's stomach, though. Or to at least give him a good shove back. What? Thought he was only a silver-spoon fed Brit? Very funny. ]

[Driving a man to their knees was always good, as he rarely had a height advantage in his fights, which was the way that he liked it. He made his advantages, but the kid was good enough to recover quickly but a bit predictably. His right hand dropped to slam his palm in order to deflect the elbow, testing strength.

He stepped back and swung a foot up in an attempt to take the kid in the side of the head.]

You ever killed someone, kid?

[ One thing that Charlie does have is strength -- and when his elbow is caught he pushes right back against the palm with decent force. He's done enough physical training outside of the Kingsman and within that he can hold his own for a while.

He allows the man's movements to take the force of his push with him, narrowly avoiding the foot to the head with a roll to the ground. It may have looked like an accident, but he used the sudden shift in weight and force to his advantage. Not the best in physical combat, he couldn't keep this up for long like some of the others, but he's formidable enough when he wants to be. He manages a crouch before pushing himself back to his feet, putting some distance between them, especially with the back of his knee aching like no tomorrow. ]

Yeah, I have.

[ Only two people, but his division of the RAF wasn't exactly in action very long. And it wasn't as though he was in the RAF for any significant amount of time, anyway. ]

[The kid was no slouch and had actual training rather than roughing it out. It was clear early on that his hand-to-hand combat skills were better, but he had been putting his fists, feet and head into other people since he could walk around on his own, so he wasn't surprised. However, he had to contain that strength to prevent it from bulldozing through him all the same; it was like fighting a lesser Rogers minus having the body thrown at him.

He set himself, raising his fists in front of his face as if he were a boxer. His feet were set unlike any boxer though, and he regarded the other from between his fists.]

Who were they?

[ he only spent a little over 10 months in the RAF, but the training there, as well as the training his father made him go through long before? Well, it's paying off here. He wouldn't have been considered for a position in Kingsman otherwise, if he did not have the skills to equally back his purse. ]

Soldiers, didn't know them.

[ Charlie can remember their faces though, despite what he wants to believe and he raises his own fists in response to the other man's stance. ] Some game of hide and seek. Americans play it quite differently than us Brits. Shows we're more sophisticated.

[ He dashes in to take a swing, feinting to one side before he actually properly strikes for the other side of the man's face. ]

[The training was obvious in the way that this guy stood. There was something distinctly military about it, and it was mirrored in how he often held himself as well, a smooth control at all times of one's body. He could appreciate that a soldier had more of a chance of being reasonable but could follow order.]

Of what country, or were the Brits just back to consolidating their power?

[He smirked at the apparent game, but they were playing it funny enough. The kid might just not realize how they were. He was hiding his secrets and the kid was going to find them little by little and realize that they were ideals worth playing for rather than against.]

Are you really more sophisticated? Or has your society rotten just like ours where simple games reveal a single truth?

[He dropped to a crouch to to barely avoid the swing to his face, setting his hands on the floor as he shot out a leg to see if he could either drive the kid back or trip.]

Afghani.

[ Why it matters he doesn't know, but there it is, and Charlie knows he won't forget them as long as he's around, certainly. It wasn't necessarily enough to scar him, but taking his first life had been difficult. Of course it was an order, and he would obey his orders, but all the same. ]

Well, I'll let you be the judge of that. I suspect you're right -- but you know, British pride, God Save the Queen and all that.

[ He doesn't trip -- thankful to be on his guard as he staggers back out of the way, the man's shoe scuffing his trousers. ] Have to at least pretend, mind you. [ He tries to move back in, though, especially with the man so slow, to aim a kick into his side. ]

Guerrilla warfare. Impressive considering how they make use of their population.

[That was some rough terrain; he should know because he had been there on operations for HYDRA securing weapons and performing actions meant to fuel the fire to greater heights. It hadn't been an easy mission, but then again, the challenge had made it worthwhile.]

Even Britain has it's problems, their share of people who are better off having their name scratched off of the face of the Earth. You throw yourself into combat for freedom even for a limited time and what... they get to steal and play on the system. Am I right?

[He remained in his crouch, and he twisted aside but feet the graze of a foot against his ribs as he rotated his weight onto his hands and back over onto his feet, rising up to his feet fully.] Why pretend when you could be doing something about it?

Two guards, didn't have to worry about the ambush. Turns out they'd killed themselves when we screened them.

[ The kick has left him too close to his opponent, particularly when Rumlow rises, and Charlie is left with few options should his opponent attack again. He could parry, maybe, fall back and try to avoid a blow, but at this range? Unlikely.

Something about the man's speech leaves his mind spinning though, gets him thinking in a way he hasn't in some time. ]

There's little we can do from a Hotel with no doors out, mate, sorry to tell you. Besides, I could very well be one of those whose name needs to be ticked off the Earth-- consider that?

Still blood on your hands.

[They were close, well within his range to snap out a punch. He stepped in to bring them close together where they could potentially stand toe-to-toe and clobber each other into the floor, but he had other ideas in mind now that there was no whining about killing.

It was a necessary evil to build something better for those left behind. People died; it was a fact of life. Those left behind would be able to flex their elbows, put their skills to use and live better lives or die worthlessly to make room for someone else.]

And even if your name is on that list, wouldn't you want to take out a few with you to prove to yourself and those left behind that your sacrifice is worth it? Ever thought of making the world a better place, junior? [He gestured with a hand at the hotel around them.] Start small, work big and see only the future.

Yes, and here I thought we had established that. That is what killing does.

[ Charlie's instinct is to take a step back, break the tension and the closeness, but he doesn't back down. Backing down shows weakness and he is not about to falter. ]

Take out a few? See, this is why I knew you'd be on that list of sociopaths I told you about. I wasn't wrong. [ It makes sense in a way, what he's saying, that if he already has a scar on his name, may as well take a few others that have the same shame down with him. Right? But how that works in a place like this? Difficult to say. Close quarters with no escape route -- didn't seem like a good plan. ]

What exactly are you proposing, then? Your speech has been great, really lovely, but c'mon, mate, you'll have to get to the point sometime. [ He can't completely cover up how intrigued he is, really, but he's trying to save face with sarcasm. ]

Are you on that list to, or do you want to just make it out of here? [Their situation was unfortunate, but it wasn't the end. Every place had a weakness, had a limit to what it could do. If they were supposed to live on the whims of whatever was here, he was perfectly willing to give them hell for it.]

People say you can't escape from here. I'd like to explore that, but to do that, sometimes it seems prudent to step on others to do so. Do you have someone who you would step on to leave? [He was perfectly serious, keeping them close together so he could keep a continual gauge of this man's reaction.]

What would you do for freedom that's currently a lie?

Making it out of this place is my priority, we can worry about the list, later.

[ because the way things have gone at home recently? there is a strong chance he'll be in deep water, but it's difficult to say. there were meetings with a man named Valentine at some point, e-mails sent about safety plans. ]

Step on someone? There's one I'd like to throw out a window, does that count? [ So yes, there are a few he could part with -- maybe -- but he wouldn't see Eggsy dead, wouldn't go out of his way to harm him but if he got in his way? Yes, he would. ]

You really are mental. [ He frowns, staring up at Rumlow, unwavering and unwilling to back down. ] I'm an open book. [ Sorry, his secrets are his own for now -- he doesn't trust anyone here, not yet. ]

I USED TO DREAM THAT I WOULD MEET A PRINCE

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i am so sorry he's such a jerk.

Jerks unite!

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