sit yourself down, and meet the best inn keeper in town ( O P E N )

[checkingin]

Who: Everyone!
Where: The initial arrival rooms, the main lobby, all over the place.
When: February 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.

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 tall pull-down screen, a silent version of nosferatu 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 timey music.

along the curtained windows is another long table, with a large bowl that looked like it once would have held popcorn. but is now unfortunately empty. same for the large hot drink dispensers labeled "hot chocolate" and "coffee".

OTHER.

the ballroom and breakfast hall are currently closed, grand doors locked.

there is no main door leading to the outside, good luck trying to find one.

the door to the courtyard is locked.

ROOMS.

you've a room key with your assigned room number on it. all the new guest residences will be located on floors one & two. 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'd 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.

Comments

[pajarita]

[she listens, first, and then adamantly shakes her head, frowning. the ark chancellor was pretty fucking horrible, sure, but she wouldn't call him wicked -- nobody called them anything, really. besides

another detail:] No -- nuclear war. Our ancestors razed the Earth, basically -- it was inhabitable.

[pajarita]

I built an escape pot out of a space bucket.

yis yis (everything in the screening room is pre clarke)

[pajarita]

[someone gets it. good. she turns towards the source of the voice, finds another girl she doesn't recognize. well-dressed, pretty. not grounder; not pale enough to be mountain men. maybe one of thomas' wicked? or maybe just as trapped as her.]

You recognize it?

[driven]

[ she does almost leave.

most of that is due to her jumpiness, her unease. she doesn't like anything about this place, and even if derek had told her that scott was here, she wasn't sure. why would scott be in his room? why were any of them here? she trusted derek enough to believe him when he said this was scott's room, but what if it wasn't? what would she do then?

allison bounces up on the balls of her feet for a moment, turning back and frowning to the door. if scott was there then why wasn't he answering? she knocks again, a bit harder. ] Scott? Hello?

[ she takes a step back, breathes, thinks one more minutes. sixty seconds, and then- but at the thought is caught off when she hears the doorknob turn. it opens, and scott is standing in front of her, and while she should be noticing more the look in his eyes, relief floods through her instead. ]

Oh thank god. [ comes out in a breath as she steps by him into his room - uninvited - just needing to get out of the hallway. his room is just about the same as her's, but there's a different feel to it, if only because it's scott's. she walks in and looks around, like she's checking the room, until she turns on her heels to face him again.

her expression is still a bit serious, but she feels like it's the first time she's been able to take a breath since she got here. just knowing she's not alone (because derek doesn't really count, does he?) makes her feel better. ] Derek told me you were here- my room is three doors down. [ and then she notices the tension to his shoulders, how wide his eyes are, and she stops. ]

Scott?

[gloriouscurse]

It certainly gave me something to do. [She's irritated, but not at him, not really, and she rifles through blank paper, finds a whole lot of dust but no things, and finally shakes her head.]

I need to figure out if my son is here. If anyone I know is here. My magic may not work alone but if Swan is here, it just might.

[There's an idea, and now she can't believe she's hoping for Emma Swan of all people to actually be nearby.]

I can find you again if I find out anything useful.

[gloriouscurse]

I'll be back down here myself.

[His appearance is, well, off putting to say the least, and she eyes him up and down.]

You work here? Why can't anyone get out?

[trepidations]

I could have ---

[ His face goes red, because he's dealt with people like this his whole life, and he's really, really not in the mood for it. ]

I'm Peter Pettigrew. And I'd say so -- I definitely didn't come here on my own. What... what is this place?

this tag is perfection.

[trepidations]

[ Well, it's certainly easy to wind Peter up, because he yelps again when someone speaks up to him. He blinks at the newcomer, surprised by the casual way he speaks. ]

W-what? Yeah, yeah you can. How -- Where is this?

[ The little englishman is flustered, and this is certainly not at all where he had come from. He can feel the beginnings of bruises on his chest, stomach, from the spells. Could this man be a death eater, too? ]

And that's not my room.

[trepidations]

[ He's surprised by the hiss she makes, but it's too clear she is not about to have any sort of concern coming from him. He does wonder sometimes why women are so terribly stubborn. As long as he didn't get chased down the hall, hit, or screamed at, they'd get on just fine.

But wait -- district? Well. I mean, I used to live in Chesham, but... I mean, I was in London mostly? Why?

[ Sorry, he's going to look at you like you have six heads, Annie. ]

[trepidations]

[ Well, now that the other guy doesn't look like he's ready to beat his face into a meat pie, Peter relaxes a little bit himself, though he keeps his distance. He really wished he had his wand. ]

Er. London. What about you? It... is everyone just -- none of us know why we're here, then.

[ The place does have a rather creepy vibe to it, and Peter wants to be sure to find the way out as fast as he can. There has to be some sense to this place. ]

[64th]

Not much surprises me. [ but, okay. she'll accept that living with a detective would lead to a certain amount of excitement. ] So are you gonna solve the mystery for us all? Or at least figure out how my all stuff got here. [ the clothes in her suitcase aren't just any clothes. stuff she's worn before. some of her favorites. ]

[trepidations]

Prongs?

[ Sorry, he's not quite expecting that, and even more so to go tumbling into the ground. He shifts and rolls off of his friend, sitting up and staring at him with wide eyes. ]

You're... you're here. I didn't know if... well. I mean, I thought I was the only one. A bad prank or something, you know.

[64th]

[ her brow furrows in confusion. being in the hotel with strangers is putting a lot of holes in her theories about where they and how they got to the hotel. ]

Is Storybrooke in Panem? [ she's never heard of it, but it doesn't mean that it isn't. Cashmere hates to sound clueless, and if he is from Panem she'll just come off as flippant. if he isn't from Panem - she's not what that will mean from either for either of them. ]

[64th]

[ Cashmere's hand goes to her own chest, protectively. just checking. is Johanna telling the truth? absolutely not. if it was, well - it's a good thing she'd be dead because Cashmere would never live down being killed by Johanna Mason. ]

Liar. [ because the Games aren't over. they just started and there's no way any of that went down in the first 15 minutes. Cashmere tries to mentally place where Johanna was during the bloodbath, and can't. she just remembers running for supplies while the rest of the pack started tearing into people. there's doubt edging in on her voice, though. nothing makes sense in the hotel. she's willing to believe a lot to find an answer. ] What are you going to do, JoJo? Fight me looking like that? Any excuse to touch me, right?

[mygame]

You're in the hotel, Sir.

[When its offered hand isn't taken, the Nogitsune folds them at the small of its back. For now, it is the picture of wanting to be helpful. How that goes, no one knows. Not even it just yet.]

As I said, my name is Stiles, and I am part of the staff here. Why don't you come sit in front of the fire? It might help you relax.

[Friendly polite smile in place. What's to mistrust from this sickly looking teenager?]

[hacker]

You don't get it. I'm not staying until morning, okay?

[ It could be the freaking apocalypse outside and she'd still suffer through it to find her team. Short of being physically incapable, nothing's stopping her. She backs away from the desk, turning to head for the main doors with the vibe that she's definitely not getting anything useful out of Stiles over there. ]

[withbread]

[ He'd felt like he'd lost his last strand of sanity.

Yeah, he's brought it down a bit. He's still highly suspicious of this whole thing, but acting like a crazy person won't do anyone any good. He tends to be more trusting than Johanna (or Cashmere probably) but he's certainly leery of a career. He quirks an eyebrow up at her comment, looking her up and down. He's going to play the role of Capitol Charmer until he's feeling a bit safer here. ]

I could say the same about you, One. [ Oh he's aware that he doesn't look his best, but that's not the point here, is it? He tilts his head a bit well aware she knows his name. ] Peeta Mellark. [ He flashes her that dazzling smile. ] Cashmere, isn't it?

[64th]

[ she doesn't miss that he's purposely given her a non-answer, and she sighs, exasperated. ] I won last time. If I have to be in I'm looking to make it a repeat.

[hacker]

Wish I did.

[ Straight to business. She drops the less pressing judgment about the hobbies she assumes of Tauriel and moves into her actual assessment of the hotel. Glancing down the hall, Skye shakes her head, and her gaze darkens. ]

I was in Puerto Rico, last I remember, but this … I don't know. I've been trying to figure it out. Northeast, maybe. [ But that's entirely speculation on the structure of the hotel and the rain beating down on the windows. ]

[starspangled]

You do?

[Steve sounds surprised, maybe a little more hopeful than he meant to. If Bucky knows, it can only be because he remembered something. There's a soft, amused huff when he goes on to say that they never watched another horror movie again. It's true, and Steve never knew why Bucky never wanted to watch another one. Until now.]

I wonder if they have any old cowboy flicks. Remember them? Or maybe something with Lana Turner. You were always a little sweet on her.

[taurohtar]

[The names the young woman rattles off is utterly unfamiliar to her, but Tauriel tries not to let her confusion show too obviously. She has never heard of Puerto Rico, wherever that is, and it doesn't even sound like any language she has ever learned. Still, she finds her eyebrows quirking together and she glances around briefly, like she will be able to orient herself with no sun in the sky and no stars to recognize through the heavy mist outside the windows.]

Northeast...of where? [The North East of the world she knows is her home, and while it does rain often in Mirkwood, especially in the springtime, the view outside the windows is not one familiar to her.]

late but OTA! no fight necessary, she'll back right off 'em.

[warring]

[ as if awakening in an unfamiliar motel isn't quite alarming enough for one day, somebody's afternoon is quite possibly about to get that much worse. because without even the sound of footsteps to serve as warning, anyone who passes by the open door into the dim and seemingly-empty room 220 finds themselves promptly assaulted from behind. a forearm snakes sharply around their neck, and a foot connects from behind with each knee in rapid succession to buckle them so they're pinned to the floor by a shin across their calves.

then comes the sharp voice in their ear: ]

Chon yu bilaik? [ what, you didn't understand that? it's okay, she doesn't give pause for an answer either way. ] Yu na tel bilaik disha lokop ste o ai na frag yu op!

[ somebody's apparently not screwing around. ]

[starspangled]

It's okay. Just...just take a deep breath.

[Steve holds his hands up in front of him, coming closer an inch a time because she's so clearly freaking out and he doesn't want to make it worse. She recognizes him. She recognizes him and Steve doesn't even realize it, because that doesn't always happen unless he's wearing the uniform.]

My name's Steve. Are you hurt?

[A quick look around to see if he can spot any of the first aid cabinets that are always hanging up in places like this.]

[jarnsida]

( He'd not been born to high status, and it is rather obvious. Though his upbringing has provided him with no grace, but his manners are still fine-enough, thanks to his mother. For which he thanks Thor, Odin, and maybe even his lucky stars as he sets his anger aside long enough to smile at this highborn lady who would give him the time of day.

His father may be King now, but it is all very much something to which he will need to become accustomed. )

Björn, my lady. Björn Ironside. ( A year or two at most likely separate them. ) And yours?

I would like that. Here. ( He holds out his arm, like he's learned a proper gentleman ought to do. )

[hacker]

The United States.

[ Her brow furrows, confusion apparent. Why wouldn't she know that? They were speaking English. Sure, Tauriel's was a little accented, but— All the same. ]