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

Well, that's certainly a choice of words.

"'Made'?"

Several things can make a person: their occupation, their social standing, their manners. But he doesn't think that's the definition of 'made' that she's working with.

Man, explaining this is always so weird.

"Okay so she was a witch. Or. Is, I guess, but that's not the point. Anyway, she has this other world that's like... right next to ours, just this place that you used to be able to get to through this little door in our living room. And she kidnapped kids, because she wanted something to love."

She sighs. "I'm sorry, I'm not explaining this very well."

It sounds like the way a small child might try to rationalise any number of bleak happenings; it's her age that makes him hesitate to adopt that theory.

He shakes his head. "Nonsense. If I were asked to explain what had happened to us today, I'd struggle as well. Go on?"

She nods slowly.

"Okay, well, what happened was she started watching my life through this little doll that looked like me. We had just moved, and my parents were busy and weren't really paying attention to me, so I was kinda mad. So when she brought me to her world and gave me all sorts of cool things and paid attention to me... I kind of ate it all up."

She's not particularly proud of that now.

"And it emerged that her kindness had a price attached?" Harry suggests, encouraging her to go on.

He can't imagine what the reality of the situation might have been. He suddenly finds himself in the company of time travellers and men from alternate universes and God knows what else. If he's gone mad he might as well maintain decorum while he's at it.

"Yeah, she wanted me to stay with her and be her daughter forever, and I'd have to have buttons sewed onto my eyes too. And then later I found out about three other kids who had done it who were ghosts because she... I dunno, sucked their souls out or something, it was awful."

She shivers a little and shakes her head.

"I can't imagine," he says quietly, sincerely, because there's nothing more boorish than trying to empathise with something so entirely outside one's own experience. Regardless of whether she's speaking figuratively or literally, or believes she is, this is beyond him.

"You seem to have weathered it, however?"

Not - given that he doesn't subscribe to the notion of the immortal soul - that he'd know what someone lacking a soul would look like.

"Yeah. I was able to rescue the other kids and my parents and get out of there, so I'm okay. So is everyone else. And she shouldn't be able to do it to anyone else again, since I threw the only key down the old well."

She shrugs.

"That was three years ago, though, so I mean I guess she could've found another way to get people? But she doesn't care about adults, and I haven't seen any of the button eyes around so I don't think it's her."

"I should think not. I, for instance, am positively ancient," he points out wryly. Then he sobers. "I'm sorry this has happened to you a second time."

She can't help but smile a little at the remark. He's a little weird, but he's nice.

"It's alright. I mean, no, it's not alright, but nothing too bad's happened so far."

'Weird but nice' is an assessment he'd be perfectly happy with.

"I hope it'll stay that way. Have you found your suitcase and room yet?"

"I have a suitcase?"

Wow, okay, she definitely didn't pack for a creepy vacation in a probably haunted hotel, so the suggestion that there's one waiting for her is... upsetting.

" - ah. Yes, you ought to have. Our...hosts, for lack of a better word," kidnappers, "provided us with luggage. You didn't see one on your way here?"

She looks a little embarrassed.

"I didn't look."

She cranes to look in the general direction of the suitcases, then sighs, frowning a little when she looks back at him.

"I'm pretty sure there's better words than hosts."

"Probably," he admits. "You really ought to find your suitcase and key. They'll be tagged with your name."

"Okay, yeah, sure." She nods. That's pretty reasonable, though she's frowning a little as she jumps back over the desk. "Add ten to the creepiness factor, I guess."

Harry steps back to give her space.

"Add fifteen," he adds wryly, "since the suitcase will be locked with an eight-digit code which will be familiar to you. An important date, perhaps."

"Ugh, really? Sounds more like another fifty to me."

She sighs and rolls her eyes. "So glad to be here."

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

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