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

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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

No, but I'm handy with a rope.

[Yep, that would be Captain Jack giving her that naughty edge of a grin.]

Can't see how those would help with a spirit, but I'd love to hear the kinky story.

Eww. No.

[ At the spirit, if not the rest. Her eyes briefly shut as if to bleach the very thought from her mind with a quick shake of her head. She cuts through the air with her flattened palm, nipping that right in the blood. ]

Not kinky. Just evil. And possessing some kid. [ Abruptly, to end the explanation, she dismisses it: ] It's a long story.

Possessing?

[Whatever quip about him and Skye trying out kinky things went away at that. One could almost see the shift from flirt to business.]

Alien or actual 'spirit'? There is a difference, and a rope or handcuffs probably won't help you with either.

I don't know, I didn't ask.

[ Mostly because it didn't occur to her to wonder if spirits might not just be aliens too, like Thor and Loki was. The sassy edge of her voice is entirely due to the overwhelming sense of should've considered that. ]

Do you have a lot of experience with either kind?

Aliens, yes. Spirits, not as much. Have you tried asking? There seems to be a lot of people here. Anyone put together a list of who can do what around here? Seems like it would be in the best interest of all of us. If we're trapped here long-term, might be best to know who's skills are what.

[He shrugs, looking her over. It's what he would have done, but he's a leader too and used to being responsible for everyone.]

If you have an alien or a spirit, what's to say there aren't vampires, witches or other things? Might be best to find out if someone around here needs blood to exist or sucks the salt out of people to keep crawling along. Plus, who has what talent is a good thing to know. You could have a professional gardener around who know how to use that rainy courtyard.

[ In stark contrast, Skye's all too used to striking out on her own with no regard for laws, rules, and power structures. Coulson leads them all, directs those energies. Which isn't to say she's been sitting on her hands: trying to track down precisely who did this has been the top of her to-do list, and she's using every tech trick she's got to do it.

But in the meantime, actually rallying the people? That's outside her area of expertise. So her jaw slackens a little when he suggests it, an instinctive startle response. ]

I— No. No, we haven't really been looking long-term. We just … [ Even trying to explain just makes her feel as if it's something that should have been a priority from the get-go, but it feels like only now a reasonable conclusion to draw. Now that they're not the only ones here. Now that more people are being brought in. She stops long enough to really process that. ] It was just us. We thought, you know, we'd find who did it and go home.

[Jack's laugh is kind, his touch light as he tries to pat her shoulders.]

You're too cute. You really are. I can see it in your face. I think I'm throwing a bit too much at you at once. I didn't mean to overwhelm you.

[It is too much in its own way, and Jack is almost sorry that he's mentioned any of this. She's the first one that came to him with mention of danger around here. Everyone else just want to show him around.]

Whatever you've been doing here, it's been good, okay? I'm guessing no one has died since no one told me about it yet. Everyone is alive. I'm not seeing blood sprayed all over the stairs or walls. Just take it as future suggestions, yeah? I've been in too many of these situations to know they don't just let everyone go with a party favor and a thanks for showing up.

These situations.

[ She repeats it, slightly incredulous, too startled by his casual approach to the situation (that's usually her schtick) to really do much beyond swallow the information at first. ]

You're … Are you saying you think this is aliens? [ A beat later, she readily adds, ] Because that actually makes more sense than it doesn't. [ She and Fitz had, after all, been in an alien city. Steve had, after all, fought in a war against them. But that's what Jack said he had experience dealing with—two and two makes aliens. ]

Yeah. They happen sometimes.

[Jack is casual about it because, hey, he's done this before. Not this particular situation, but ones like it. A lot. Torchwood, man. It's crazy. Least it isn't The Year That Never Was.]

It could be. Could be a lot of things. I'm saying we need to focus more on all of us than whatever it is. Take stock of what we've got, who's good at what. Just incase. Make some bridges instead of everyone scattered.

That's what I would do at least. Doesn't mean it's the best thing or the only thing or anything. Just what I would do.

Then, let's not talk would. Let's talk do.

[ Because she's on board. She's so on board. Enough so that she stows her alien questions for later, though they are insistently pressing at the back of her mind.

It's always been hard, leaving her personal baggage behind to focus on what a good SHIELD agent would do. It got her in hot water with Ward, Raina, her father. Lesson learned on all accounts, after the temple. Or so she'd like to pretend. ]

Those tablets that came in our suitcases. We could put out a rallying message and gather in the lobby, or the screening room. Or maybe just jump on a chair tomorrow at breakfast. I don't know.

Easy there. Easy. There's no big rush. Some like me are just getting here. A friend of a friend of mine is here, and she said she's been here for a month. Time we got.

[This feels to Jack suspiciously like someone is trying to get him to go along with the whole organization thing, and that is not on. If she wants to be a hero, Jack is willing to let her take the stage. But not him.]

I'm not your man. I've got my own super secret organization to run back home. This? Vacation until I'm bored of it. No rallying cry, no jumping on tables. People get scared, they get panicky, and the last thing you want to do is cause a panic. You need to think on it, get someone who's good with words. Just put out a 'Hello and Welcome to Hotel' memo. Feel people out some.

[He shoves his hands in his pockets, leaning against the desk as if he were too lazy to do a damn thing.]

Find out who's willing to talk, willing to come together. Not everyone will be. Don't take it personally. This isn't a war. Don't scare people into thinking it is.

Again, just my view. Take it or leave it.

You're the one saying we should organize—you're trapped here the same as any of us. There's nothing vacation-y about it. [ She gesticulates widely at her side with one hand, huffing as she recalls, ] Last week, the thermostat dropped so low that we thought we were all gonna go hypothermic and die. I'm not— [ A sigh follows. She's not the leader. She's the unknown element. And Skye and crowds just don't seem like a good idea, these days. ] If you've got experience with this, help us.

Compared to my daily usual, this sort of is a vacation. Now if there's a bar somewhere around here, then we're in business.

[He is listening, smiling still even as he winces internally at the mention of the temperature bottoming out. Freezing to death isn't a pleasant way to go, but there are worse and she did say that they 'thought' they were going to. He takes that to mean that no one did.]

You're gorgeous, and any other day of the week, I'd be trying to talk you into bed. Maybe even going through the motions of the leader shtick for you. But I just got here. No one is going to do what I tell them to just because I'm Captain Jack Harkness. My people back home follow me because they want to. Don't have that here. For all anyone out there knows, I could be trying to lead them over a cliff, maybe paid off by whoever is doing this to do so.

Well, without someone to unite us, you're not going to be new for long. [ No one will be. ] We've been here four weeks already. A month, and we've barely learned anything. Meanwhile, we're rats in their person-lab. [ Which is a very unpleasant thing to consider, but important. ] If the ideas are there, people will hear them out. No matter how scared they are.

[Well. Fuck.]

[He sighs, looking her over again. She reminds him of Gwen, all fire and no direction to throw it in. Burn herself up with everything else if she isn't careful.]

Fine. If you can get the followers rounded up, I'll ... think of something. That's about the best I can give you right now.

[Thanks, Skye. Leader mode sucks.]

I'll work on it.

[ her nod is fully committed to sparkle motion. ]

[Jack is so screwed, and he knows it, and this isn't even being screwed in the fun way.]

Uh-huh. Until then, work on what I said to. Just don't be too obvious. Not everyone likes order and working together. Make yourself too visible, and you're a target.

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

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