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]

[ 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.

[lesson]

( frick you charlie, stop rubbing your height and superiority complex in his face.

...not...like that matters here. eggsy's got a quick, succinct message for the other man and then he can leave and they can both be happily seperated by a door. charlie's sneering at him, but it's somehow offputting how petty it is; there's no outright vehemence that might lead to, say, sharp things against delicate parts of anatomy. and that's weird but also filed away for a later time. so he plants his feet a little further apart, squares his shoulders to project assurance, and jerks his jaw. )

We're tailors here. ( there's a telling, lengthy drawl on that. tailors, charlie, you get me? ) Just like we was back home. Don't ruin it.

[cgrades]

[ Charlie expects him to say all manner of things, but when he mentions being a tailor? well. that's not exactly what he's expected at all. but Eggsy's comment stings and he frowns deeply. what had been mere arrogance before is now turning into something akin to anger. ]

Yeah, right, won't ruin it for you and your mates, don't worry. But I'm not a tailor, I won't play under cover with you. [ well, he wasn't as spy like they were, was he? he'd been thrown out just as quickly as some of the others. Eggsy might be a spy, Harry might, Merlin might -- but not Charlie. ]

So, trust me, I won't ruin it for you. Play at what you want, I've other things to concern myself with.

[lesson]

( other things, he says, and eggsy doesn't resist the urge to roll his eyes. he's been here for two months; there's very few other things to do around this place other than suffer and concern yourself with people. )

Whatever. You don't wanna affiliate yourself with us, fine, I don't care. But I'm serious. ( point to eyes, point to you serious. except eggsy only goes so far as to jerk his chin and glower. ) Don't go running your mouth.

( and when he feels like that's squared, eggsy turns to leave. only to let curiosity get the better of him a few paces from the door, and does a complete 180 on his heel to stalk back into the edge of charlie's personal space. he's a hand raised like he plans to prod him in the chest to make a point, but curls his fingers in and just sort of gestures with his fist. )

'N what's the last thing you remember?

[cgrades]

I hadn't planned on it, actually. But if it will get under your skin so terribly much perhaps I will.

[ What good are spies when they're trapped? No less, what good are tailors in a place like this? Charlie folds his arms over his chest and frowns, a rather resolute sign that no, he won't tell anyone about Kingsman. He has some little pride left, after all.

He doesn't think twice when Eggsy goes to leave, and he rises from his place on the bed, moving to dig through his suitcase and get the turkey and dog biscuits out. Already he can feel his stomach growling, and from what he's heard today? There's been no food for days. Weeks, maybe. He pauses though, considering Eggsy, considering what he should tell him. ]

I was on a train home after, incidentally, being tied to train tracks. Why's it matter?

[lesson]

( because he needs to know if charlie remembers betraying them; remembers buying into valentine's bullshit one way or another; remembers condoning the mass cull of millions of people. because it's kind of important to eggsy that he know if he needs to be on the look out for more knives to the underside of his jaw, anymore i've caught a fucking spy!; any touble.

because he needs to know if charlie deserves another punch to the face, or if he can be resigned to them going their seperate ways (for now) knowing they'd held the same mild disdain towards each other that they'd had during training.

because — maybe for his own sense of mind — eggsy needs to know how he needs to treat charlie for now, as a begrudging friend or enermy. and since it's the train tracks... )

It doesn't.

( ... there's no reason to mention the mountain, is there? that's a decent enough answer. now he can turn and go for real. )

[cgrades]

Right waste of my time you are.

[ because when wasn't Eggsy wasting time with the strange, backwater slur of an accent, the cocky tilt of a hat or the posturing they seemed to do whenever they had to stand and actually face one another.

and maybe Charlie can't bloody well stand the fact that Eggsy beat him, but what else is there to do? stand straighter, act wiser, dress smarter. not that difficult, considering. ]