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

[kirking]

I dunno, I like it from replicators.

[And that might not make sense to her but replicator food in general is just crappier. The less good version of pretty much everything. Kirk is a weirdo, he likes the taste of replicator food. It's one of the few things he doesn't bitch about.]

It's lacking regrets, I think. I'm not regretting eating half of it.

[pajarita]

What's a replicator? [it's pretty clear she decides his tastes must be okay because he looks fiiiiine, so she gets a handful of popcorn to eat up.]

Huh. I expected more.

[kirking]

It uh-- replicates things. Food mostly. Lots of people don't like it, say it tastes fake.

[The name is kind of self explanatory girlfriend and also you probably had to be there. You know. In his future.]

Keep eating it. It gets more addictive.

[pajarita]

[alright, guess what she does exactly that. and after a pause during which she chews popcorn, swallows popcorn, and considers the implications and ramifications of replicators on the ship, concludes with:]

Fake food is still better than starvation.

[kirking]

[There's a flicker of a smile that isn't laughing and he nods, because yeah. There are very few truer words in the universe.]

I couldn't agree more.

[pajarita]

[there's not a lot that can be said after that, so she doesn't. she doesn't think about herself, starving because her mother thought her rations were expendable if it meant more hooch for herself to drink her pain away. she doesn't mention how she would've licked bolts if someone had told her they would taste like chicken back then.

fake food is still better.

but she doesn't, she just eats the damn popcorn.]

I'm Raven, by the way. We never got to that point.

[kirking]

[That works for him. Kirk isn't about to volunteer information about a planetwide famine, about failing crops and a governor deciding who lived and died based on who he considered to be better.]

Kirk. Jim Kirk.

[pajarita]

[tests it out in her head: jim, kirk, jimbo --] Nice to meet you, Kirk. [and there it is, that one sounds good enough.]

Did you have a go at the thermostat in the end?

[kirking]

[Please don't call him Jimbo. But everything else is fair game.]

Yeah. Then I realized I'm actually not a very good engineer.

[pajarita]

Most engineers aren't. [HA. HAAA. She had to.]