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!

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Arrival Hallway.

[After exiting the unfamiliar room in which he'd awoken, Stefan finds the steadily increasing sense of foreboding that he'd been experiencing dissipate almost entirely. That isn't to say that he is exactly at ease given that he still has no idea where he is or how he managed to get here, but the immediate surge of dread that had been welling up the longer he lingered within the room is no longer compounding with the feelings of confusion and unease that anyone waking up in this particular situation would have been experiencing by default.

The unfamiliar suitcase that he spots at his feet once he glances down—something that was obviously intended for him given that his name was scrawled across the top, doesn't exactly help matters. Nor do the other individuals who have begun to filter out of the many doors lining the hallway, given that most seemed to be just as disoriented as Stefan felt at the moment.

He chooses to ~~creep on~~ wait until most of the other confused new arrivals have vacated the initial hallway before he actually opts to do so himself, though it doesn't escape his notice when he has to strain that much harder than usual in order to listen in on any of the conversations taking place further down the hallway.

Since no one here appeared to have any idea what was going on either, Stefan's first order of business is looking for someone with answers, or any other sort of explanation as to what's going on.]

Front Lobby.

[It isn't until after he has attempted and failed to compel any of the hotel staff located in the front lobby for some answers that Stefan actually decides, you know what? Screw this, I'm leaving.

His focus immediately shifts from attempting to find out any information that he can regarding where he is currently and how he even wound up here to begin with, to the quickest method of leaving the establishment—something he soon realizes is a lot easier done in theory. The funhouse style lack of much needed doors or breakable windows (or any means of accessing the outdoors, really) is a bit over the top, but also turns out to be super effective when it comes to keeping even the most driven vampire from busting out despite repeated attempts (fist, chair, possibly a member of said hotel staff) to do so.

Needless to say, the lack of any actual method of exiting the building has Stefan even more on edge than the Stepfordesque troupe of bellhops or, you know, the fact that he still has no idea how he wound up here to begin with.]

Edited 2015-03-16 02:57 (UTC)

( Lydia is just minding her own business, the Argent bestiary in her lap, when a new flock of confused, lost, angry people start to flood into the hotel. She looks up occasionally, searching the crowd for familiar faces, especially since it's the dead of night. Weird. But... Anything is possible here, so it would seem. Allison's alive, somehow. The Nogitsune is free, somehow. One of these things is not like the other, but they are similar in that they're both completely reality-breaking. She's half expecting someone else she thinks is dead to show up, like her grandmother or something. She wouldn't complain about that, actually. There are a lot of things she still wants to know.

As for the new hostages... She'll answer questions, should she be approached, but mostly she keeps to herself and continues reading all there is to read. She's meant to be helping Deputy Parrish figure out what he is. She might as well do some research while she hasn't got anything but time. She tries not to waste too much of it away from her best friend, because every moment is precious... But, Allison's busy. Sleeping, probably. It's late. So she's not feeling too guilty about it.

Most of the new arrivals come and go without incident. But the relative peace and quiet pseudo-casual atmosphere of the lobby are interrupted rather violently by someone who looks to be about her age. She pauses her reading, tucking the cord of a necklace between pages to save her place, and watches. He seems angrier than most. Much, much angrier. She's seen rage like that before. Irrational, rash... Could he be a werewolf? Newly bitten, maybe...

Lydia rises to her feet as she watches him. She needs to approach with caution, because he's going completely fucking berserk. He's clearly got enough strength to be dangerous. But he can't continue to be allowed to rampage through the lobby, and it seems like there's not really anything anyone else is doing that makes him stop. She gathers her courage and takes a deep breath, then starts toward him. When she calls out, her voice is forceful enough to get someone's attention but gentle enough not to seem threatening. Or, at least, she hopes. If he listens closely enough he may be able to tell that her heart rate is increased. You scary, Stefan. )

Um -- Exc--you should probably -- ( she thinks better of just saying 'excuse me', or something else complacent and indifferent sounding. he's on a rampage. lame?? ) You're wasting your time. They're not going to break, no matter what you do.

[So much for keeping a low profile, but there was a reason that Stefan was overreacting at the moment—if you could consider lashing out against the individuals who were probably somehow involved in his apparent abduction overreacting. Damon was dying (if not dead already), and he Stefan didn't have the time to waste playing guessing games. He wasn't normally prone to jump straight to violence, but when smashing a chair into the glass window hadn't done the trick to bust the damn thing open, he figured one of the as of yet unnamed bellhops might do the trick.

It hadn't, for the record.

That didn't mean he wouldn't try again. Fortunately (?), Lydia's intervention meant that Stefan wouldn't be tossing another bitch across the room. At least not just yet. In fact, he turns away from the unhelpful staff members altogether in order to face the girl who had been more helpful in all of two seconds than these employees had in the last ten minutes. Don't get it twisted, he was still operating under the flag of trust no bitch, but he was at least willing to hear one out so long as she was willing to talk (xoxo still love you though). Four for you, Lydia. You managed to get this vampire's attention. ]

How do you know that?

( it's a little bit difficult to consider oneself "low profile" when one is destroying rooms and also the bones of bystanders. not that the hotel staff could be considered bystanders, by any stretch of the imagination. lydia's smile is wry and a little awkward because approaching someone who is clearly given to violence doesn't exactly cause warm and fuzzies to ripple throughout her being.

she's tentative as she walks up to him ~~and admires the view even if it's attached to clear emotional issues~~, but she does want to try to be as helpful as she can. being new here is disorienting and kind of scary. she nods toward the windows. )

I've been here for a month. The doors don't work, as you've figured out... But the windows are completely untouchable, too. There's no way in or out for those of us already here. How they managed to transport anyone new is a mystery to me, because everything is locked and sealed tightly enough that it would probably take a pretty formidable military force for it to budge. This might sound completely crazy, but I'm positive there are forces at work here that most people can't even begin to comprehend.

[It doesn't sound as crazy as she might think, if Stefan's lack of any sort of surprise following her vague-as-fuck method of dropping the "m" bomb is any indication. Because she was totally talking about magic, right? His eyes narrow on her slightly, as though he were attempting to determine whether or not she knew more than she was letting on. The thought of compelling her crosses his mind, but so long as she is willing to continue cooperating on her own he shouldn't have to resort to that just yet. Not that it had done any good with the bellhops anyway.]

You think it might be witches? [No reason to beat around the bush apparently jfc. But honestly, it seemed the most obvious explanation. He had seen magic used in a similar manner before. Granted, it hadn't exactly worked the same way, but casting a spell to prevent someone from leaving a specific area was something he had very recently experienced first hand. If nothing else, he's hoping that her reaction to his blunt method of dancing around the subject by crashing right into it would grant him some insight into whether or not she was playing a bigger role in this whole scenario.]

( lydia just sort of stares at him skeptically for a second or two. witches? who said anything about witches? however, her willing suspension of disbelief is pretty high given the developments in her life over the last couple of years. she does think that there are supernatural forces at work. she's not entirely sure she was going for witches and magic... but it's not as farfetched as it could be. she's a freaking banshee. her friends are werewolves. there are kitsunes, and nogitsunes, and all sorts of supernatural crap she wouldn't have believed a word of a year ago. but witches just seems... cartoony, almost. like it has less basis in reality. ) I think it might be something. Why, do you have experience with something like that?

[Well, that was less forthcoming than he'd hoped for. Then again, she wasn't exactly looking at him like he'd just grown two heads in response to his suggesting that magic might be responsible either. Stefan watches her for another moment, as though looking for some sort of tell or other sign that she knew more than she was letting on. Trust no bitch, basically. He doesn't know her from Susan--for all he knew she might even have something to do with this.]

You might say that.

( sorry, stefan, you're gonna have to compel her if you want her to tell the truth nothing but the truth so help her god... she forces an awkward smile, because he doesn't seem immediately threatening to her, but if he wasn't just throwing shit around like a toddler on a rampage a minute ago, she was certainly out of her mind hallucinating. )

Vague... But useful. You wouldn't be the first person in the hotel who's seen things like this, and stranger.

[Don't tempt him ok. But his earlier attempts to compel the bellhops were what had caused said shit fit to begin with, so it's unlikely he would try again because compulsion straight up wasn't working here for whatever reason. Again, magic seemed the most obvious answer. Which was really annoying actually, since it was like one of the few things that being a vampire couldn't really trump.]

Is that right? Well then, maybe you could point me in the direction of one of these people. [Unless she meant herself. Give it up, ~~Deelishis, you look like a fucken man~~ Lydia. You've seen some shit, haven't you?]

( her smile goes from awkward and sort of wry to confident and bold very, very quickly. because she totally is one of these people. she holds her arms out to the side and shrugs her shoulders. ) You're looking at one.

[Well he kind of figured as much. Like this shit wasn't rocket science but well played I guess.]

My name's Stefan.

[Because it seemed like a better approach than throwing her at the window in an attempt to escape.

Plus he already tried that with the bellhops and it didn't work, so maybe she just lucked out yolo.]

( she doesn't extend a hand to shake because she is ~~too fly for that shit~~ a classy lady who likes to play coy. she tucks a loose hair behind her ear and gives him a warm grin. ) Lydia. Welcome to Hotel Hell.

I'm not sure how welcome I'm supposed to feel after being, possibly magically, abducted.

[Not that it was her fault. Maybe. Honestly, Stefan wasn't ruling out the possibility that she might somehow be involved. But for the time being cooperating seemed the best approach given that it had turned up more answers in the span of five minutes than ten plus minutes of unprovoked (if you can call it unprovoked) violence against random bellhops).]

So, do I have to ask for the grand tour or does that come free with the "Hotel Hell" introductory package?

Oh, believe me. I know. ( her nose wrinkles with the return to the wry expression, and she squints her eyes a little. she turns her back to him for a moment to gather her small armful of things, then whips around with more pep than he's probably seen since he got here. )

Mmm, I'm thinking we start in the lobby, and work our way up. What's the room number you got on your key, by the way? That can be our last stop.

[Stefan pulls out his key, which he'd pocketed, to reveal the number 403.

That's it, that's the tag.]

( so verbose what a useless trash baby

she takes the key, smiles perkily, and gestures toward the stairs. )

We'll go that way when the time comes. For now? ( she holds an arm out to the side, being that her other is holding her things, and spins around. ) This is the lobby. There's a dining hall off that - ( she points ) - direction, where you'll get breakfast only. We're all on the hotel hell diet here.

[He looks in the direction that she indicates, but seems to be contemplating the hotel diet that she mentions a little too intensely. Up until now, Stefan had been so focused on getting out that he hadn't stopped to consider what the ramifications might be of his being unable to do so. And something told him they weren't serving up fresh bambi blood with the eggs and bacon.]

Who's in charge of feeding everyone? [Casually asking the important questions that might help to keep innocent people alive,]

[As if upon a wish, she comes like a fairy godmother. At the very least she has answers. Not long ago it was her stumbling out those doors, and Lucrezia feels as if it is her duty to help those now just as stranded as she-- though she no longer feels lost. Donning her dress, she looks much like painting for many. It dates her, and she has become aware of it, but the dress is as much her as her hair or eyes are.

She stands at one end, helping someone with their suitcase when they thank her and tell her they'll be fine on their own. She calls back to them her room number should they find themselves needing anything.

And on to the next lost soul.]

[The fact that there is someone offering help to those who've only just arrived doesn't escape Stefan's notice--nor does the fact that the woman offering said assistance happens to be dressed in such a way that has him wondering if this is some kind of theme hotel.

He decides to wait until most of the new arrivals have tapered off before approaching, opting instead to watch the woman's interactions with the few individuals sill filtering out of the hallway to find their way to the main lobby.

Once most of the newly arrived guests have gone, Stefan approaches her with his own luggage in hand.]

Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear you just now. Do you happen work here by any chance?

[When the next person greets her, she tries to welcome them with a warm smile. He isn't the first to assume that about her, most questions going the same route. She doesn't blame them though. Her mind traveled similarly when she first showed up here.

But to answer him, Lucrezia shook her head.]

I am not, though you may find more help with me.

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

stefan salvatore | open

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