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

[villainously]

( no, tugging seems to earn nothing but sore hands and smarting fingers. he's been at it long enough to know. he's going to have to get more clever to get that swing free, and . . . well he might be running out of cleverness.

he shrugs, taking her point without agreeing or denying it. things were generally not made to be broken. and, well, for that matter, ) They do seem to want to keep us here. Anything that resembles a tool is nigh impossible to get.

( a pause, like he's just remembered something. ) Are you sure you ought to be out in this manner of weather? ( if she is pregnant (there's like a 15% chance as he sees it), it's probably not the best of ideas. her jacket isn't water resistant, and well, his isn't helping him that much anyway. )

[ivolunteer]

( katniss scowls.

scowls. but, like, more at the dumb lie than any real irritation with him. )

I can handle a little rain.

( back home it was survive rain/wind/snow/freezing/starving or bust, and katniss is pretty tough. she can't help but thinking if she were actually pregnant, it'd be sort of a cake walk in this hotel. she's even gained a little weight from eating regularly after she stopped turning up her nose at the food she didn't know the source of, and now actually almost fits her clothes. )

[villainously]

I'm sure you can.

( it's the plus one that probably wouldn't appreciate the inclement weather. he's not an expert on pregnancy, but he knows it takes a great deal out of a person. might make her more susceptible to taking ill, is that a risk she should take?

she seems. . . less than pleased by the inquiry, but he hangs around Emma Swan. sometimes ladies are just cross by personal observations. he's used to it, and well it never did bother him terribly anyway. )

Come on. We might as well go drip on the hardwood or something, serve our hosts right.

( maybe the hardwood by the fireplace. because it's warmest there. but hey it's just a suggestion. )

[ivolunteer]

I said I could handle a little rain, ( katniss insists with a huff and the cross of her arms across her chest. but...

really, if he leaves the swing be and traipses back inside, katniss isn't dumb or stubborn enough to stand out here all by her lonesome and catch a cold. she'll follow him inside and follow him to the fire place and sit at the foot of one of the chairs. kick off her boots, shrug off her non-weather resistant jacket and lay in in front of her to dry.

then she'll let them sit in silence, picking at the sole of her boot which is starting to peel from use. and when the glimmer of a conversation starter appears, katniss quietly grumbles: ] Any of your other friends show up this time?

[villainously]

( she seems to have missed the subtle indication standing in a straight drizzle might not be good for her theoretical baby, but seeing as she follows inside he doesn't point it out. Killian can't quite decide if the girl is pregnant. doesn't seem like something she'd make up, if only because her beau seemed to be using it to try and pick up sympathy from the rest of the residents, something Katniss herself seemed quite adverse to.

she was sticking to the story, and he would have liked to trust her. he trusted her enough to be careful, but not quite enough to completely believe.

he does sit like a pirate. not caring if he was dampening a nice chair, legs wide and posture a little sloppy as he takes the warmth of the fire. it's been long enough that the warmth is pleasant. he doesn't mind the silence, finds it companionable even. he doesn't mind answering though. )

No. Not in this group, at any rate. ( a few from the first round, though. ) And yourself?

[ivolunteer]

My mentor.

( but katniss everdeen is none too happy about that fact, nor his sudden appearance. haymitch abernathy isn't the lowest rung on the ladder of people she'd rather never see again, but she's still incredibly — incredibly — angry with him for going back on his promise to protect peeta in the arena.

instead he'd sold him out.

so she shrugs and stares pointedly at the mantle. )

He's not important.

[villainously]

That kind of mentor, is he?

( he's felt the same about a few individuals in his life, but in the end it just resulted in him not trusting anyone to instruct him after he'd been burned too many times. hard to say if it had resulted in the better but you did learn a great deal if you had to teach yourself.

the last mentor he had that he wants to remember would be his brother; the rest have been disappointments. )

Which one is that? ( he's fairly sure that Katniss can look after herself, but just wondering. . . )

[ivolunteer]

( well gee, what kind of drunk is haymitch abernathy? )

He's a useless drunk. And a liar.

( she has the distinct urge to pull her legs up to her chest and hug her knees to her breasts, seeking out some sort of faux comfort at the thought of what he'd done to her. done to them. )

He's that one. That kind of mentor. And I don't want to talk to him. ( but her resolve in that declaration is wavering, because at the same time she feels obligated to. the same way they're now obligated to be friends with the likes of cashmere and johanna mason. panemites stick together. )

[villainously]

( if only she knew, Hook himself is kind of a prettier Haymitch with a better accent, but hey, he's been forced to sober up. he suspects that this mentor of hers will have to do the same.

he was inquiring what this mentor looked like, but he can tell that the girl doesn't want to speak of it. he'll just have to keep his eyes open. Katniss seems capable of taking care of herself, but, if he's got an evil hand he might as well throw it in the right direction, if he needs to. )

When people have wronged you, sometimes talking to them after is the worst sort of punishment. They have to remember what they've done every time you do.

( there you go, Katniss. vengeance advice, you're welcome. )

[ivolunteer]

( just don't lie to her.

don't get her friends killed.

they'll be just fine. though she finds your vengance advice lacking. )

I don't want to talk to him at all. ( last time they'd "talked", she'd tried to stab him with a needle. a month has passed and even now, she'd still like to hurt him. ) I'd rather hit him.

[villainously]

( he laughs, sudden and a little out of place, but hey. in a place like this, it's kind of hard to get amusement out of him at all. he glances at Katniss with an undeniable fondness at that confession. )

You think like a pirate. ( and that is a compliment, actually. )

If he's a drunk, he's going to be aching something terrible for weeks. Get him upside the head and he might get a migraine.

( there, better? )

[ivolunteer]

( it shouldn't be better. it's outright mean. and that's what makes it so delightful — enough for katniss to snort a laugh before ducking her head.

she'll remember that one. )

What do you mean, like a pirate?

[villainously]

( oh, kitten, if you want to talk revenge, this is just about the expert! it would be mean, and it probably not make her feel any better if she actually did it. but it's certainly nice to think about. )

What do you mean, what do I mean? Haven't you ever heard of pirates?

[ivolunteer]

( 99.9% of her hometown couldn't swim, and they were nowhere near to a body of water large enough to hold a ship. maybe those on the coast still had the term pirate in their vocabulary, but it likely wasn't quite the same definition as his.

so katniss shrugs. let's her silence and the weird line of her lip serve as her answer. )

[villainously]

( christ, how does he explain piracy? he rubs at the gruff on his face and considers it. )

Pirates are sailors. Renegades that fight against the crown. Rogues if you will. We are our own men and we don't answer to anyone but ourselves.

[ivolunteer]

So you're rebels.

( like the rest of them — the rest of the panemites — but on water. hm. )

[villainously]

Aye. I won't bow to any king, especially when they care little for their people, only for their power.

( he won't hide being a pirate, even though he has done some to hide being Captain Hook. )

[ivolunteer]

Good.

( which she practically spits; cruel, power hungry leaders hit a sore spot in her, and have her baring her teeth before schooling her features back into tight, impassive composure. )

They don't deserve loyalty. ( and yet usually have enough to keep them in power. )

[villainously]

No, they don't.

( he eyes her with curiosity, because she says it with the vehemence of someone that has experienced it firsthand. he wonders. . . but he doesn't ask. )

When one rules by fear and cruelty, you won't get loyalty. Only compliance.

( and compliance was easily broken. )

[ivolunteer]

( he may not ask, but she does. )

Who's your president?

[villainously]

He was my King. And I don't have one anymore.

( not because the bastard is dead, though... well, he likely is. Hook is rather old after all. it's more the principle of it. )

That's part of being a pirate. I'm my own man, I make my own choices. I won't be ruled again.