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

get at me

[lesson]

( arrival. )

[ eggsy hits the floor like everyone else, breathes in the dustmites like everyone else, and rockets out of the dark, creepy room with gusto. like everyone else. by the time eggsy trips over his suitcase and barely catches himself from faceplanting on the worn carpet, he's ruined all chances of a cool, composed entrance. but who in their right mind could be completely reserved when they'd been kidnapped with no memory of the event? because last he remembered, he'd been outside the black prince; he'd had plans, he'd had intentions, he'd been going to — ]

Fuck, [ he curses, smacking his palm against the floor for emphasis. a cloud of dust and dirt plooms around eggsy's face, but he pants angrily regardless.

looking this way and that, he spots a few other people milling about the hallway, and goes rather immediately for the defensive — for the suitcase which, even if it's not exactly kingsman grade (i.e., just a normal suitcase) would make an excellent shield were the surrounding people to attack.

(when they don't, and he's left holding the bulky, brown overnight case to his chest in a decidedly ridiculous manner, eggsy admittedly feels a little silly and reluctantly lowers it to his side again.) ]

( stairs. )

[ wow this stairwell is crowded time for cASUAL PARKOUR. ]

( lobby. )

[ somebody tries to jiggle the ballroom door handle into submission. maybe even throws his shoulder against the old wood a few times before giving up.

then he cases the place — walks along the outskirts of the large room; smacking curtains, kicking rugs, paying a lot of attention to the high corners, and sideeying everyone he doesn't know. so really, everyone. there's a poor attempt at casual in the way he walks and glances about, then in the way he kneels by a wall and rifles through his suitcase — a decidedly useless shield, and not holding much of value either — and then resignation as he tries the coffee dispenser in the mess hall (empty) and eventually traipses back to the stairs. ]

( outside room 405. )

[ he gets inside alright, but neglects to shut the door and spends the next fifteen minutes flipping everything on it's axis. why? good question. for bugs, for starters, because after dealing with one villainous, colorful megalomaniac who'd been content to watch the whole world tear itself to bits, eggsy wouldn't put it past some other nefarious rich kid to have put them all here to see how long it would take for them to start chewing each others faces off.

but, passersby may also be able to hear him mutinously muttering about chocolates on pillows, and come on, you pretentious shitheap.

stay around long enough, you may also hear the pained grunt of someone who tried to pull their mirror off the wall, and just ended up stumbling back into the bathtub. ]

( make your own adventure. )

lobby

[sheriffing]

[This place has a way of wearing down her patience. Although if she's honest, Emma's never had a hell of a lot of that to begin with. She watches from her corner of the room while one of the new guys battles a door handle and loses, going through some routine that probably only makes sense in his head. Whether he's trying too hard or not hard enough, she can't really tell. All she knows is that in a room full of new arrivals, his still manages to stick out.

Which is why she approaches, figuring he might need someone to tell him that they've already been over this place with a fine-tooth comb and come up empty.]

Last I checked, the curtains and the carpet weren't behind any of this.

[And side-eying the other captives definitely makes him look suspicious, but that's something he should already know.]

( outside room 405 )

[engender]

[ derek lurks. he stalks. it's something that doesn't go away. it's in his dna. literally. wolves stalk. they keep track - of pack and of possible enemies. it's natural for derek to take time in new hallways. the first go round he'd found scott and lydia in their rooms and offered to help clarke. (not to mention pass countless others he'd never met and couldn't help with anything) as it is, most doors are closed - either people have come and gone, there are less arrivals then derek thinks or, they're inside their rooms not wanting to be disturbed.

the opposite is true for eggsy's room.

his door's open, the room overturned. either it's been ransacked or someone is in search. of something. a way out. cameras. they've all been there.

derek pauses, listening for a familiar voice, trying to catch a familiar scent. there's neither.

what there is, is the sound of eggsy stumbling. making sure the guy inside is alive, derek crosses the threshold, reaching the door to the bathroom. even halved speed lets him catch sight of eggsy falling back into the bathtub ] Did you hit your head?

stairs

[cisskabob]

[Cissie is almost enjoying watching the new people--it's at least entertaining, and different, although she's getting tired of watching them tear the place apart. How many times do you have to tell someone "there are no doors" before they believe you? She retreats to the top of the stairs, watching from a distance over a railing. Still looking for anyone she knows, but... so far no luck.

And then... Then there's this kid, casually leaping and flipping and doing anything but climbing the stairs like everyone else. The only other times she's seen people do that have been in capes and masks. It catches her attention immediately, and she positions herself so that she can give a slow clap when he reaches the top of the stairs.]

Impressive. 8 out of 10, I think.

[lesson]

( a suit is a modern day — "modern day", whatever, more like a "subtle modern day" — superheros forego the spandex and mardi gras masks for bespoke bullet proof suits and oxfords. makes it a lot easier to spring into action, and no telephone booth required.

not like that meant dropping out of an airplane 3000 feet above ground didn't feel any more exhilirating than really flying probably would, but come on — if his world had superheroes, they wouldn't need the kingsman.

having spent nine months in training, eggsy's pretty fit, and reaches the bottom of the stairs with barely a lock of hair out of place. he swallows hard, and there's a hint of sweat under his jacket. but the key to casual urban gymnastics was to treat it just like walking, only with slightly larger, more interestingly placed steps. though the suitcase at his side made it a little harder. but he hadn't hit anyone over the head with it, so — )

Only 8? Really?

[cisskabob]

[Cissie's mouth twitches in what might be a grin, only she's not going to let on right away that she's amused. It's almost comforting, in a weird way, watching parkour like that. Makes her think of Tim--her Tim, not the Tim who's here, though he probably prefers jumping off rooftops to taking elevators too.]

Maybe 8.5. Sticking the landing, you know. That carries a lot of weight on the score.

[lesson]

( eggsy makes, admittedly, a rather unattractive face. )

I hadn't realized this was Under Tens again. ( gymnastics. he'd loved it — once upon a time. oh so dryly: ) I'll try better next time coach.

getting at you

[managedthat]

[casual parkour? more like casually winning her heart. the more he jumps, the more she smiles, following him up the stairs (but like a normal person. you know, NOT jumping everywhere). absolutely incredible. every leap, every grunt, every little motion gets her to gasp, and she can see him as a superhero-- the type that could fall in love with an heiress that would so dutifully keep his secret. it's perfect. and manga heroines don't meet their love interests in conventional ways. what's more unconventional than being stuck in a hotel and meeting on the stairs after a bit of circus-esque acrobatics? she watches for a moment more, trying to prevent a case of the vapours (keep it cool, renge. just because you can imagine all the romantic lines he could say doesn't mean you should tell him that.), and offers him a smile.]

That was quite the show. Do you always use stairwells as springboards?

[that was smooth, right? totally smooth. that's her. renge "ultra hot and smooth" houshakouji.]

mwah

[lesson]

[ ah, where had she been during his casual teen years, where it'd been all gymnastics all the time so he wouldn't have to be around his mum and her psycho new boyfriend? eggsy could have used a little oggling back then, might have encouraged him to stay in the sport (though if even his instructors and the promise of a spot on the olympic team and the scholarship money that would entail couldn't, just about nothing could).

but sadly, eggsy's not looking for admierers right now. more like mortal enemies, and teenagers smiling at him like that is a bit unnerving, but not enough for him to assume she's the mastermine behind his kidnapping.

just another victim, but with potentially terrible priorities. ]

Only when I get bored of walkin'.

[ does the accent make up for the complete lack of romance??? ]

oh my!! i'm swooning

[managedthat]

[she'd been playing video games because, really, there was only one man for her. but replacements in the real world would suffice. barely.

she keeps watching him, and notes every detail about him. that suit fit him like a dream-- undeniably designer. armani, she wagers. he's a stickler for details-- his shoes shine like the moe sparkles of her heart, his hair is artfully tousled, and gelled so he doesn't have to artfully tousle it throughout the day. his glasses are special-- no one would be doing flips like that with normal glasses. he doesn't need them for sight. appearances? his voice hits her, and while DAMN, that's one attractive voice, the way he speaks, throws her ideas of him into mild disarray. that wasn't the voice of pedigree and class-- his appearance was a strange pretence. who did he steal from? or who would give him gifts like that?

if kyouya was next to her, he'd be so proud of her. except kyouya would know who this monkeyman in a suit was, and he wouldn't have questions. just plans.

but enough of kyouya! new targets were to be had, and renge was to keep it smooth.]

Does that happen often? Or is this some special occasion?