a gent of good intent who's content to be ( OPEN )

[checkingin]

Who: Everyone!
Where: The initial arrival rooms, the main lobby, all over the place.
When: March 3rd
What: Welcome, newbies.

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 a warmly crackling fireplace, to your right is a lobby desk. straight ahead are three large sets of doors, though only one of them is open to the public. 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.

terribly sorry for the inconvenience.

SCREENING ROOM.

on a long pull-down screen, a silent version of the phantom carriage 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 popcorn and a large hot drink dispenser full of hot water, but without any tea or hot chocolate packets around.

OTHER.

the ballroom is currently closed, and the grand doors locked.

there is no main door leading to the outside, good luck trying to find one.

the doors to the courtyard and breakfast hall are unlocked, but looks like you've missed the morning meal. sucks for you.

ROOMS.

you've a room key with your assigned room number on it. all the new guest residences will be located on floors three and four. 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.

it's late when the newcomers arrive, there's a good chance you'd been about to go to sleep (or just waking up, who knows, your mom's not here to tell you when to go to bed or get up). but if you're paying attention, you might hear the hustle and bustle in the lobby below; or maybe you're just drawn there because your gut told you to go join the commotion. whatever the case may be, go mingle!

Comments

[villainously]

ＣＯＵＲＴＹＡＲＤ
( he quickly grows tired of people watching, when it seems to not reveal much of anything new. they're all lost, and troubled, and confused. he's seen all this before. hell, he's been there before. he can't put their minds at ease or offer any answers, and he hasn't the patience to repeat himself over and over nor be particularly comforting to those troubled by their new situation. his mood has not been particularly bright of late. being free of Neverland doesn't chase away the scars it leaves behind, and this place brings the same demons back.

it didn't take long for him to realize that the courtyard was finally open, prowling around and hoping for new clues. he's been nearly crawling out of his skin to be trapped inside for so bloody long, but it's debatable how much relief being in the courtyard offers. the inclement weather just leaves him soggy (though, he's a pirate, he's used to a bit of rain and dreariness) and the air feels heavy, like a weight on his lungs.

he doesn't seem to be letting the absolute lack of rewarding sensation to be found in the courtyard stop him from scoping it out, though. he keeps futzing with the swing, trying to see if he can get her free. he doesn't know what good the chain would do him, but if he could get it off he'd figure something out. he's not looking for conversation, but if someone else wanted to get drizzled on and tried to start one, he'd talk back.

. . .probably. )

[youcantransform]

Harry's wandering eventually takes him to what little 'outdoors' he can access. An actual exit has evaded him, and for as long as his mind is (semi-consciously) clinging to the idea that he's died and gone to some kind of post-modern Limbo, he's not going to try looking much harder.

The rain is familiar - he's been based in London his entire adult life, after all - but the air is dense and oppressive, without the promising static of an oncoming storm. It's not especially better than the interior, but it's different, and they say a change is as good as a rest.

He unfurls his umbrella and extends it overhead, peering up at the grey ceiling of the sky from under the black canopy. He and his company seem content to leave one another in peace for a brief while, but the part of him which resents incomplete knowledge of any given situation is always striving for improvement.

"Is it always this dreary?"

He once read an interview with a sociologist who claimed that Englishmen talk about the weather as a kind of social grooming activity, merely to test the waters for other conversation. He can't say he disagrees.

[villainously]

Different is just about the only relief the courtyard has to offer and as a man that has been trapped for a good month now, Hook does want to experience something that isn't being trapped indoors. He's always preferred open air to confined spaces, and he's not sure he'd call the courtyard open but at the very least, he can see the sky. Sort of. The dreary grey clouds don't offer much perspective. If only they'd clear a bit and he could see the stars. . .

He's mildly aware that somebody joined him in the courtyard, he just sees no good reason to strike up conversation. The swing seems to be attached by chain links, taking it off won't be easy without any tools, and well he's spent a month trying to finagle an exit without. He hasn't quite given up, though, still stuck fidgeting with it, even if it won't get him anywhere.

Now, despite sounding like one, technically the pirate is not English. He is a sailor, though; talk about the weather is not particularly foreign to him. He glances at the sky with a frown, before he spares a look toward the man speaking to him. "Aye, every day for a month now." Even the air seems to be heavy with the incoming storm, yet it never seems to come.

[youcantransform]

Every day for a month. Which either means that the inclement weather has lasted that long, or it's a more personally relevant remark.

"Is that when you arrived?" He sounds a little dubious - 'arrived' implies that one consciously made a journey - but he doesn't say as much. It's a closed question as it is; no reason to make it even less useful.

[villainously]

"Aye, give or take a few days." Hook has taken to scratching exactly how many in his wall, a quirk he'd earned in Neverland before the days stretched so long it was pointless to keep track anymore. If he'd left a mark on his ship for every day he spent there every inch of her would be scarred.

"And I take it you are new. There's been a whole crowd of you." It's not a particularly helpful statement, either, just an observation.

[oceanborne]

[ The courtyard is far from an ideal outdoor escape, but after the seemingly endless chill indoors and the confinement that keeping warm required, Annie will gladly take any respite that she can. And really, if she closes her eyes and ignores the coolness in the air, it's kind of like being home. The constant rain, the fog, the almost suffocating dampness in the air -- she could be back in Four, waiting for a storm to roll in off the horizon.

But the smell of damp concrete and earth keeps her from getting too caught up in her illusion, as does the sound of... chains? She moves out of the doorway and further into the courtyard, wary and curious. Next to the swing set, she pauses to watch the man fiddling with the swing. ]

What would you do with it, if it came apart?

[villainously]

( he's seen all sorts of sea climates, but his preference is toward more tropical ones. so sadly, shutting his eyes does not make him think of better places. at least Neverland occasionally had beautiful weather, like a poisoned plant with lovely flowers. this place is just shit, all the time. it's his first time actually out in the dreary drizzle, and as heavy as the air is, at least he isn't indoors.

it's a trial to try and stay alert every waking moment, yet he feels he needs to in this place. so he isn't surprised by the voice, he was aware of her footsteps. his fingers have started to hurt from fussing with it, which is enough to make him stop for the moment. )

The chain isn't very heavy but perhaps it could break a window. ( he'd find something to do with it, if he could get it free. )

[oceanborne]

[ Oh, there was nice enough weather in Four a good portion of the time. Well, if muggy, swelteringly hot days count as nice -- to Annie, they certainly do. She hasn't seen the sun in months now, so one of those too-hot days would be nothing short of paradise. It would certainly do wonders for morale around here, at the least.

His answer takes her by surprise, but after a moment's thought Annie nods slightly. ]

Not on its own, but if you used it as a weight... like a slungshot, maybe? [ Her hands bunch up some of the opposite chain in demonstration, curling around it in an approximation of the knot that would tie around the links. ] It might make a decent weapon, anyway.

[ Which... was probably not the greatest idea to give to a complete stranger. Annie drops the chain like it's burned her, drawing her arms back against herself before she can offer any more oh-so-helpful tips. ]

[villainously]

( he's more intent on escape than weaponry, though some of the characters running around do not seem the most trustworthy. Hook doesn't see anyone he's particularly intimidated by, as of right now. this place could get ugly if people actually got their blood up but thus far nobody had tried. at least as far as he's aware.

he frowns at the chain at her suggestion, really having not considered it. if he wanted a weapon he probably wouldn't have thought of the chain but she's not wrong. just using it to lash people would likely hurt. it just seems a very odd thing for a girl to notice about it. )

I'm more stuck on getting free of this place. If we could break a window, perhaps we could get out on the other side. ( no interest in weapons, as of now. he glances at her with a perked brow at her suggestion, clearly curious yet not strong enough to ask. considering her reaction it seemed doubtful she'd answer anyway. ) Killian Jones. Don't believe we've met.

[gluestick]

[Rat Man had told them to find "open air", and the Courtyard's the closest to that he's seen. He's mostly hoping the Gladers had the same idea about it, that he'll find them all out here or something. Or that there's an exit out here that he couldn't find inside. But it's all walled in and his friends aren't in sight and all he gets for his trouble is soaked clothes and disappointment.

Someone appears to be out here though, so he approaches them cautiously, pushing his discouragement aside to focus properly. Nothing good would come from letting himself begin to feel hopeless here. He doesn't have Alby to rely on anymore when that happens, he's got to do it himself. He drags his hand through his hair, pushing it back with the moisture. He stops a few feet away, keeping the rest of the distance for his own peace of mind.]

Trying to break the buggin' thing?

[villainously]

( soaked clothes and disappointment is about right. even the shirt under his jacket seems to have gotten a bit sodden from his misadventure, and yet the pirate is not willing to give up yet, all the same. he's dealt with a bit of water before, even if it's a little cold it doesn't particularly bother him. for all of his rattling and tugging and twisting, no matter what he does he's made no progress on the swing, and it's driving him mad. can he not do one damned thing in this gods forsaken place?

after a month, it does tend to get easier to fall into useless hopelessness, it's just that even once his head gives up the rest of him keeps at it just for something to do.

it's not the first time he's been interrupted but it is the first that really seems to unsettle him. he glances at the voice and his face sets into a frown almost despite himself, grip tightening on the chain for a fleeting moment. the boy (yes, it looks like a boy to a man of three hundred and change) looks far too much like a face he's no interest in seeing again. Neal being revived isn't terrible but Pan can very well stay in the grave. in a few moments he sees the differences, it's just a boy, and not one he's seen before. . .

but he's got a look of the lost about him and Hook needs no reminders in this place of Neverland.

he shakes it off and yanks at the swing uselessly, and it just clatters in mocking. ) Aye, figure I could use it for something if I could get it free, but she's bloody well stuck.

[gluestick]

[Okay, well, he's never heard someone say 'aye' before, and it's the first time he's ever heard someone else besides himself say 'bloody'. His slang had always been a little stranger than the other Gladers', so it's a little surprising to hear it come from someone else. But then, he has no memories of where he's from, so it's possible that it's not that uncommon if he knew his origins.

Newt eyes the chain for a second before looking back at the guy.]

You'd have to have one hell of an arm to break that free, I'd think. [A pause, and he frowns.] Where are we?

[villainously]

( too bad his evil hand isn't inherently strong, too. it's true, strongarming it open is a lost cause, but that doesn't mean he'll give up. he's clever when he wants to be, and he'll get the chain if it kills him. he's staring at it, trying to think of a new plan of attack, not expecting conversation to continue.

of all the people to ask, he's not sure why the boy picked him. the pirate frowns, eyes still set on the swing, yet he does offer an answer. ) I don't believe it has a name. Some punk calls it the Hotel California but apparently he's full of it. Nobody really knows, just an enchanted inn of some sort.

[hacker]

[ When Skye steps out into the courtyard, she stretches her arms out at her sides, palms splayed, and spins, taking in a deep breath of the cool, open air—her first in a month. Even the rain is welcome, pattering down on her face and steadily drenching her well before she even notices Hook lurking, his dark clothing helping him to blend in.

It's not until she hears the clink of the swing chain that her eyes flicker over to him, alert, and she drops her hands then, closing them into fists at her sides. A silent moment of attention passes before she settles on a hasty, ] What are you doing?

[villainously]

( she is very far from the first person to inquire what he's up to. apparently he's not the only one that decided to seek out the courtyard, but he's certainly the only one determined to rip a swingset apart. mostly it's something to do, even though he's not getting anywhere with it, but the more he tries and fails the more frustrated he gets.

he frowns at the voice, feeling what he is doing is very evident (it's not). ) Trying to get this bloody thing off. ( he's been at it at awhile, and no such luck. even if he could get the swing free, what he'd do with the chain is not exactly clear. he just might have liked to have one thing go his way in this damn place. )

[hacker]

So, you're … destroying a child's play set.

[ She takes great strides in keeping her tone neutral and questioning, but that only sails it straight past diplomatic and into sarcastic judgment. The arching eyebrows don't help matters. ]

What did daycare ever do to you?

[villainously]

( he's really not in the mood for sarcastic judgment. really, what's it to her if he's messing with a swing? he turns to look at her with a mildly annoyed expression. he only can vaguely guess what daycare is, but that's not the point. )

Seeing as there aren't any children about ( discounting that strange one with the glasses anyway ) I can't say I'm too concerned.

( not that he has to justify his attempts to dismantle it, but: ) The chain might be good for something if I can get it off.

[wickedlyable]

((Ah. One of the newcomers has an actual idea that hasn't crossed her mind yet. What a surprise. Johanna doesn't quite care about going out into the damp courtyard, despite the fact that she's only dressed in a hospital gown and clogs. She's too focused on what this guy's doing.))

If you actually manage to get that loose, you should let me know.

[villainously]

( she may or may not be able to see as much from her current position, but he has not gotten very far on getting the swing free. if he had something to pry the links open. . . but he doesn't. of all the times his bloody hook would be useful.

still, he's not going to admit the high potential of failure, no matter how many people ask. ) And why would I do that, darling? ( he glances back to spot who is talking to him, brow lifted. )

[wickedlyable]

((And never mind, she hates everyone here, him most of all. Her expression immediately turns into a sneer, and she crosses her arms over her chest.)) They've made sure that we can't tamper with most things that could be used as a weapon. If you manage to get these chains loose - which I doubt - I want to know so that I can arm myself. Darling.

[villainously]

( hey, no hard feelings, he's used to being hated upon first meeting. it's something you get used to as a pirate. )

You know, it'd be smarter to arm yourself first, instead of suggesting I warn you when you should. ( though, for the record: ) I generally don't go after strange women with chains.

[ivolunteer]

( be cold and wet and miserable and have to talk?

well, begrudgingly sign her up. mostly because katniss passes the door while it's still slightly ajar and recognizes him. it's not a very large courtyard, and the playground is no so far from the door that he's indiscernable through the rain. and her orange benefactor is one of the few strangers here she'd actually spoken to more than a few times, or had cause to like — even if their alliance was only based on oranges and lies.

so she follows him out, hunches up her shoulders as if that'll do anything to prevent her from getting drenched within a few seconds. )

Why? ( ...is as far as her question goes. why are you out here? why are you ruining a swing? why are you so nice but also so weird? )

[villainously]

( can he take back his probably because by the gods, he had no clue that torturing a swingset would earn him so much bloody commentary! perhaps he'd be more patient for it if it weren't for the fact the swing has absolutely refused to budge, whatsoever. he thinks perhaps he's convinced one of the links open a fraction. . .

and he's been at it for at least an hour.

the inquiry this time is short and sweet, and he exhales a frustrated breath, ready to turn around and scare whatever misguided individual who thought talking to Captain Hook was a good idea back off into the hotel, but when he sees who it is he deflates. because obviously you can't yell at a pregnant girl.

or perhaps he just doesn't want to yell at her, period. )

I want the chain. ( the answer to the first two. jury was really out on the last one. )

[ivolunteer]

( yeah, don't yell at her; katniss is famedly defensive and would become even more so if someone were to up and start shouting. for now she's just cold, and the way she crosses her arms over her chest is just for some source of faux comfort. )

What are you going to do with it? ( if you get it. not when. )

[villainously]

( it's a when, thank you very much. he's spent three centuries fighting for revenge, he can spare as many hours as he needs to steal this chain. )

Might be good to break a window. ( it's mostly that it's something to do. don't judge, Katniss. prying it open hasn't worked, so he's since tried using weight. standing on the swing is a bit awkward, but perhaps with enough strain, the top chain will open enough to tear it free. he stands on it and looks at her with perked brows, like he's daring her to contradict him.

or maybe he's just trying to pretend he doesn't look ridiculous. )