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

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Newt's first reaction is relief, because it's Thomas, and it hadn't taken long to find him at all. The others must be nearby too, maybe in other rooms like this.

And then... he talks, and it's not at all how Thomas talks. Newt's brows crease in mix of relief and confusion. Is this Thomas' try at a joke? God knows he's terrible at them.]

What are you goin' on about, Tommy? Thought you'd be relieved to see me. I know I am.

Tommy. Thomas Edison? I am not him or Stiles although all three of us look exactly the same.

[Well, mostly. The Nogitsune looks a lot like a plague survivor, but it is beginning to see where the mistake might be made. Dangling this one over the edge might not be a good idea, but when had it let something that silly stop it?]

Before you ask, I don't know why we all look the same. It doesn't interest me, and you are still in my den.

[It arches a brow as if expecting Newt to do something about this. Now.]

The humans don't like it when I injure someone.

[Helpful, right? Right! Attempting to get along with its neighbors. Good Nogitsune.]

Don't know anybody named Stiles. [Unless that's Thomas' real name? Who the hell names their kid Stiles, anyway. Even without memories, Newt's pretty sure that's a weird name.]

Who are you then? [Newt is suddenly extremely alert, any relief he'd had tensed back up.] What do you mean the humans?

You tellin' me you're not? Human, I mean. [Clones? Sounds like something WICKED would do to them.]

I know that.

[Humans. Why did it deal with them?]

How could you know who Stiles is? I thought it was him at first but it wasn't. I don't have a name. Names are what you all have to figure out who is who or to understand something. I know who I am.

[A mild annoyance crosses the Nogitsune's face. Logic states it should just pick out a name, but it is standing firm on this. Picking one would be like bowing to the human demands.]

No, of course I'm not. Why would I refer to all of you as 'humans' if I were one of you. That doesn't make sense at all.

[After the million questions Thomas asked it, the Nogitsune is starting to wonder about these people.]

I think a name's less for everybody else and more somethin' for you to hold onto for yourself.

[At least, that's how he feels about it. How he felt about the only name he could remember until he found out that WICKED's the one who gave it to him. Took his actual name and replaced it with something of theirs. He'd give anything to hold onto his real name.]

Gonna tell me what you are? Has WICKED made bloody clones of us? Wouldn't put it past 'em, that's for buggin' sure.

But I know what I am. I don't need a label applied to me for that. How can I lose myself?

[This is not the sort of surreal conversation it wants to have with a creature it believes is lesser than itself. What kind of human even has those thoughts? It's going to have to watch this one.]

A clone? No. If I told you, then you would look at me if I were insane. It isn't as if you're capable of understanding either. You humans are infamous for that.

[And a fox might be a little put-out that a human finally came up with a good answer to its name question that it can't simply dismiss.]

[Newt offers a tight, thin-lipped smile. He's seen his friends lose themselves before, and it wasn't even their fault. Griever stings changed people, and they were never the same afterwards. They always lost something of themselves to it, and it sounded like the Flare worked the same way.]

You'd be surprised, I think. When everything goes shuck crazy, it's nice havin' something of your own to hold onto, even if you lose everything else, you feel me?

[He shrugs to the rest.]

Seen plenty of weird klunk in what time I can remember, I don't think I'd be beyond believing anything at this point.

[The Nogitsune frowns at the boy, completely at a loss for the time being. Other creatures were afraid of it, left its presence when they could. What was wrong with this human that it wasn't running? Or leaving? Or at least looking as if he were experiencing the same confusion it was?]

I'm not Thomas.

[It folds its arms and fixes a glare on the human. This bore repeating because this human was not doing what it was supposed to.]

I am not 'shuck crazy' or 'weird klunk', whatever they may be. Both sound unpleasant. I do not need a name because I know what I am, and I do not require anything to hold onto. Everything and everyone passes away given enough time.

So you've said. I wasn't really implyin' you were.

[ Cranks didn't look this calm, at least, from what he's seen of them. Though he does look like a very sick Thomas, and that's probably what keeps him from leaving yet. It's definitely not Thomas, though, if he doesn't even know Glader slang. ]

Just tryin' to figure out what you are, since you seem so bloody set on keeping it to yourself.

Good.

[There is something wrong with this human. On that, the Nogitsune would put money if it cared for such a thing beyond thieving it to start humans fighting among themselves. Shouldn't the human be running? Afraid? Something?]

I am a Nogitsune. [and it doubts Newt has a clue what that is.] A dark fox spirit, an agent of chaos. I feed on all the bad things you and other people feel. Your suffering and pains.

[The appropriate amount of fear would be shown now surely.]

[ Newt arches a brow, because all of that just sounds like fairytales and make believe to him. He can accept this isn't Thomas, but to accept that it's... Some kind of spirit, that's another story entirely.

If he's scared though, he's not showing it. ]

You serious? Then Tommy and I must be a bloody buffet for you. [ His tone sounds joking, but he shrugs. ] And speakin' of that klunkhead, I really ought to find him. Can't leave him alone for too long or he starts doing stupid stuff. Sorry for buggin' ya.

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

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