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

In Red's book, it could be worse.

"I think we'll get a better handle on who brought us here once we figure out why we're here."

To Red it was a simple as that. One answer was usually the gateway to many more.

Of course. In Red's book there is always a worse.

"Only way we'll get any answers is if someone talks to us. Got to eventually."

"You'd think that. It's amazing how long someone could hold on to what they know."

Or perhaps he wouldn't. His primary assignment was, after all, an agent in Red's taskforce, and he was positive Ressler knew Red hadn't even begun to tell them everything he knew.

Ressler wasn't stupid, he knew Red had a hell of a lot more than he'd ever give them. It was beyond naive to think he was their good pal that would just hand over anything they wanted. Would be nice though.

"There are ways to make people talk." He's done his fair share of making people talk after all. Not always the boy scout way either.

Red knew that as much as Ressler did, in fact, he'd been subjected to many of those 'ways'.

"Which is all well and good, as long as you know who needs to do the talking."

"Well, I'm working on that." He looks away with a sigh.

"Doesn't seem like anyone has come around yet since we were brought here. Can't stay that way forever. Someone will slip up, we'll catch them doing something." And really, there are a lot of them here, hopefully for the ones keeping them here, they had ways to keep them under control. Shit could get pretty real, real fast if not.

Ressler still approached everything like law enforcement, not that it surprised Red at all. Typically, if the person that kidnapped you decided not to show themselves right away, they most likely did not intend to show themselves in any sort of a timely manner.

"What have you been telling people you do back home?"

"Only one person asked, told them I did security. Figured it was a safe, but vague answer." He'll hush his voice a little, in case anyone is nearby. Security could mean a lot of things, but most people probably wouldn't assume that it meant cop or FBI.

Red nodded, "Security it is."

He'd keep Ressler's actual job quiet, and assumed he'd do the same for Red.

"I think international shipping would work for me."

He'd let Red handle his own story, after all Red always did what he wanted, but it wouldn't hurt to know what he might tell people. Keep their stories straight.

"Shipping." Not a question, just repeating it as it sounds a little... ridiculous considering he knows Reddington and what he actually does. Trying to picture him doing anything considered normal is pretty much impossible at this point.

"You still gonna go by your name then?" Because Raymond Reddington was a pretty damn well known name.

That was a large part of Red's extra-legal business ventures, cargo. Whether that cargo was information or goods didn't particularly matter. He just made sure things needed to go where they needed to go.

"So far, no one I've met has recognized it." So yes, yes he was.

Ressler is thinking me along the lines of Red sticking stamps on boxes and putting them in piles to go to certain places, not the regular sort of shipping the criminal handles. It's an amusing if not ridiculous mental image.

"If you ever decide to change it, lemme know." He'd like to be in the know, if they're going to play at being acquaintances. Friends. Whatever.

If Red knew about that mental image he'd probably laugh, and the assure Ressler that there was quite a bit more involved with Red's kind of shipping.

"I will. More people are apt to believe what we tell them if we have the same story."

Well now that they've got that covered, Ressler remembers something. Wouldn't hurt to see if Reddington had gotten the same thing, or something similar. He nods first agreeing with Red, before his stance changes, glancing around again to make sure now one is immediately nearby and trying to snoop in on the two of them. For whatever reason.

"So did you get anything odd in your suitcase?" He gives a shrug of a shoulder.

"Something that seemed out of place?"

Red didn't think finding a redacted document in his suitcase particularly odd. They'd become commonplace over the years. But he supposed that's what Donald was talking about.

"A redacted document? I don't think that's too odd for either of us."

"It is in this instance." Sure he handles stuff like that back at the post office plenty, but just finding that in a suitcase here with his own stuff? That's kind of weird. For him at least.

"And yeah, that's what I got too. Missing a page though. Gonna take a guess that's yours."

Red nodded, it was his.

"I wonder if anything is going to come of it. Regardless, I doubt either of us should lose those pages."

"Don't worry, still got it. Could be a whole lotta nothing, but then we don't know that yet. Better to just keep it instead." At least Red agreed. It was a lot easier when they could agree on things. So far so good, for the most part.

Red rarely agreed with Ressler, but when he did it was because the other man was right, which was something else Red was loathe to admit.

"Though I know if I gave out gifts after kidnapping someone, it wouldn't be anything of any use to the people who may want to get out. Hopefully, they don't think like me."

SUCK IT RED. It's okay, he hated admitting Red was right a lot of the time too, though he's gotten to the point where it was just easier to do so and pretend it wasn't a big deal.

"I'll be sure to cross my fingers and toes." In hopes they don't.

Red imagined few people thought like he did so, the odds were, most likely, on their side.

"Though I wonder what the best way to decipher it would be."

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

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